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sinon36 · 23 days

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Echoes of Salvation: The Deal (Part I). Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab reader (Zombie AU)

Part II

The story starts after the dash.

Warnings: some gore, some mistakes, some bad writing (eh… we all have to start somewhere), not proof read, some independent woman surviving on her own without the need of help from men (cause I like self reliant women and people in general, they are a great inspiration to us all, really).

Disclaimer:

Dear readers,

Please be kind. This is my first fanfiction ever that I wrote and posted, so please be kind and overlook any potential inaccuracies, mistakes, grammatical errors as I’m not a professional writer and also English isn’t my native tongue. Though I have studied British English I am sure I haven’t really managed to accurately portray the British way of speaking, so please, feel free to point out anything that might poke you in the eye while reading this.

Also, I would like to tell you that this fan-fic is the love child of my obsession with our favourite masked man Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, and my love for anything zombie apocalypse or world-ending alternate universe or actual universe. Tbh If I wasn’t a poor student I would probably be a prepper, just like Frank from HBO’s TLoU. Most likely will be. I’m a little weird like that, you’ll see more in the future.

To close this little rant, I hope you’ll enjoy it, even if it’s short, I would really like to continue this if you deem it worth it enough. This will probably be a slow-burn kind of romance: 1. because I’m a sucker for the kind of slow-burn strangers/enemies to lovers fanfics, and 2. because it’s more realistic, let’s calm the whore-y instincts and be reasonable people that don’t climb masked 6-feet-tall strangers like trees.

With everything said I do not own the Call of Duty character Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley (*whispers*Though I wish I did*) BUT I do own this piece of fanfic. Please don’t steal it. Repost it but please do give credit to other people’s work. You may notice some similarities to other fanfics, cause duh, I also read a lot of that, (isn’t that one of the incipient stages to becoming a fanfic writer?), but I would really like to give a shout out to the fanfic author that really inspired me to put fingers to keyboard and a fanfic into Tumblr, please, *drum rolls* a round of applause for @nsharks with her lovely fanfic ‘Bleeding Blue’. She’s really wonderful and you should really check her out.

Have fun reading and don’t forget to leave a comment or a heart. I wouldn’t mind suggestions of what to name Simons’ daughter. That would really make my day 😊

P.S. Sorry to all the fishing loving people out there, what I said was based on my impression of the fishing experience and should be taken with a grain of salt.

Yours truly <3

Synopsis:

It’s been five years since the outbreak happened. Five years ago, in London, a terrorist group released a virus in the city center. 24 hours later, people start developing flu-like symptoms. 48 hours later the infected turn into mindless ghouls biting healthy people and spreading the infection. Everything happened so fast. The army came in and tried to contain the outbreak but soon chaos engulfed the whole country. You learn that similar attacks happened all over the world: New York, Beijing, Moscow, Athens, and Tokyo. City by city, the whole world is ending.

You survived thanks to your mid-twenties life crisis that made you move into a cottage house by the lake in Lake District. The land you own is surrounded by thick lush forest that offers perfect cover for the tiny brick house that is your safe haven. With a water source close, off-the-grid energy, and a garden full of plants, fruit trees chickens, and whatnot, you live a comfortable life tucked away, far from the dangers of the cities. You are so far out of reach that in the past years you only saw a handful of infected, survivors that traveled far to escape and distant neighbours that got infected in the towns nearby. You can’t remember the last time you saw another person. But you are used to your loneliness. The end of the world brought only a mild inconvenience, now that you can no longer order things online and watch movies on Netflix or HBO. But with a library full of books, a homestead to keep you active and your Border Collie companion, Bellamy, life is good. Life is peaceful.

One day, while you are out fishing, a masked man, armed to the teeth and carrying a young girl in his arms threatens to kill you if you don’t provide him with medicine for his sick daughter.

The sky is cloudy above but some sunbeams break through to warm the crisp air this fine early spring morning. It’s a good time for fishing now that the water is warmer, they come closer to the bank in search of food. It’s a boring task after you arrange all your tools and launch the line in the water. It’s a game of waiting and watching for any small tugs or movement of the neon-coloured fishing line. You picked up fishing after a couple of months into moving here, when everything was a mess and so many repairs and renovations had to be made around the house. The guy from the tutorials you used to watch on YouTube talked about the calmness and relaxation fishing brought to him. Maybe you weren’t cut out to stand all day on shore and gawk like an idiot for hours at the thin plastic line submerged in the lake water. But you cannot deny the proud feeling catching a fish brought to you when the line finally went taught.

You try and ward off the boredom and instead try to focus on the warmth that spring brings after months of endless cold. The birds are singing in trees, preparing nests for future offspring, and the lake is calm, with bubbles on the surface indicating the abundance of fish. Life is good. Bellamy enjoys sunbathing next to you rolling in a patch of grass. Everything is peaceful. Nothing really happens here anyway. You close your eyes basking in the good feeling that overtakes you.

A branch snapping behind you wakes you from the meditation you have fallen into. You raise and turn from where you are crouched over your equipment. You come face to face with a strange figure.

‘Show me yer hands’ he tells you in a thick British accent, eyes focused on you and handgun aimed at your chest. He wears all black and a haunting white skull mask. He is tall, at least 6 feet tall, body poised to kill. In his other arm, you can see a little girl hugging his neck.

You slowly raise your hands. At your foot, Bellamy growls baring her teeth at the stranger sensing danger. You shush her grabbing her by the caller to keep her from attacking the armed man. You stand still watching in apprehension as the man studies you. You look at the ground where you left your backpack and your hatchet.

‘Don’t even think about it’ comes the gruff order. You nod trying to convey that you understand the situation. ‘There’s nothing in that bag worth a bullet’ you tell him in an even tone despite fear creeping down your spine. He hums in agreement. ‘And if you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it by now.’ He watches you like a hawk its prey. ‘So…’ you pause carefully measuring your words, ‘what it is that you want from me?’ he gestures you to take a few steps back and you drag Bellamy by her collar.

He kicks at the backpack spilling the contents. A bottle of water and a half-eaten sandwich, a hunting knife, and a rectangular box in which you keep the hooks, lures, fishing lines, and other small fishing equipment. He turns his gaze back at you and nods toward your dog. ‘Put a muzzle on it or I’ll shoot it’. your blood runs cold at the thought of losing your sole companion. You scramble to untie the scarf you keep tied around your wrist that you use to wipe away sweat from your forehead. You wrap the piece of cloth around the dog’s snout tight enough to not slip away. Next, the dark-clad man tells you to pack your fishing gear and collect your backpack, with one hand keeping it outstretched to the side and the other one grabbing at Bellamy’s collar guiding her forward. ‘Move. Eyes forward. Any sudden moves and I drop you.’

He walks a couple paces behind you. For how big he is you can barely hear him walk on the path. You can feel his gaze burning in the back of your head and the gun pointed at your back. As you start down the path you can make out the roof of your small house. Once you get at the gate you stop. ‘open it’ he instructs. ‘The key is in my right pocket’ you say slowly gesturing to said pocket. ‘Mhm,’ you hear him grunt. You slowly release Bellamy and fish for the key in your jacket’s pocket. You slowly take it out and put it in the keyhole turning it and opening the gate.

The familiar sight of your front garden does nothing to appease you in this situation. Bushes full of colourful flowers hug the narrow path toward the house. The wind catcher hung above your porch clinks melodically as a gust of warm wind catches on it. you take a few more steps on the stone path before you and you hear the gate closing behind you. What once was your safe space now traps you in with a stranger ready to shoot you or worse.

‘Tie the dog to that pole’ he orders you again. On your right, there is a small pole stuck in the ground. He throws a roll of paracord next to you. You don’t move at first. You had never tied Bellamy down before. You can’t even remember when you last put a leash on her. She likes to roam free and run around. The click of the gun behind you tells you that you have no choice. You drop the backpack and start to drag her to the pole. She tries to resist but you shush her and urge her to move. Once you finish tying her you turn towards the stranger. He nods towards the house and you start walking hands raised on either side of your head. Once you open the door he urges you inside.

‘Where do you keep the medicine?’ he grumbles urgently. ’Bathroom.’ you nod to the right of your living room. ‘Go get it!’ you don’t wait around you spring toward the white door. After a couple of minutes grabbing most of what you keep in the over-sink cabinet you emerge hands filled with gauze of all sizes and different bottled pills. You return to find the man placing the girl on the couch. She appears to be asleep. You almost forgot about her. She looks about 8-years-old. Brown hair is chopped short in a pixie cut. She’s wearing blue-washed jeans and a dark green hoodie that’s too big on her.

You watch as he peels the hoodie from her limp body. Underneath she wears a striped t-shirt, but what catches your attention is her left upper arm. Red stained gauze is wrapped around. You are still in your approach keeping a safe distance. ‘Was she bit?’ the words rush out in apprehension. From where he kneels next to her his eyes snap at you. ‘No’ he denies the implication of your words. ‘Put that on the table and go sit by the door’ You do as you're told eyes darting between the girl and the man. You drop everything on the coffee table and go sit by the entrance door hugging your knees. You watch as he works on bandaging the kid. Your eyes are glued to the girl’s arm.

Even though you lived so far out into the wilderness you saw pictures on the internet of bites from the infected. You read the posts of the survivors and heard the news broadcast on all channels. Then everything went quiet. The cable didn’t work and your phone had no signal. You knew shit hit the fan and that it was serious. Then, a few weeks later you saw your closest neighbour, Neil, an elderly farmer who lived about half a mile further up the river’s bank, growling and stumbling trying to catch Bellamy who was running scared towards you. You tried to talk him out of the trance-like state but to no avail. He kept stalking towards you, ready to take a bite out of you. You tried to tell him to keep his distance and warned him that you would protect yourself. The rest was a blur. You faintly remember grabbing the hatchet that you used to cut down logs for your stove. And then the struggle with the man, Bellamy barking, you crying out pleas for him to stop. In the cacophony of noises, you hit him with the blade right in the neck. The next thing you knew, your neighbour lay in a pool of dark blood hatchet still. It took you a while to register what you have done. You just killed a man. You couldn’t forget the way he lay there, on the gravel, hands stretched outwards bloodshot eyes staring emptily at the sky. That was the first time you encountered an infected. You distinctly remember the fear and adrenaline that took hold of you. The feelings that gripped your heart so tight and that made you take a life take over you as you watch the little girl, possibly infected, unconscious but on her way to the same madness that turned Neil into a savage monster all those years ago.

'She's feverish. You got meds or something to bring the fever down?' his question brings down from your rising panic at the thought of being stuck inside with a possible infected. ‘There should be some anti-inflammatory pills and some antibiotics. They are out of date but they could still work.' He grabs hold of the med kit you brought. He sorts through the drugs checking the expiration dates. When he comes across the antibiotics, he studies the pack carefully, his eyes darting back and forth from the label to the girl. 'How much can I give her?' he asks with a hint of concern his stern facade crumbling slightly.

You look at him unsure what to say. Those pills have been bought before the start of the outbreak. You doubt expired drugs have any effect anymore. You refrain from saying that though. He is stressed, he might take his anger on you. ‘She’s a kid, you mumble, so, about half of each.’ He carefully considers his next action. ‘She’ll need water to take them, you add from down the floor. And some food…’ He nods in understanding. ‘May I?’ you don’t know why you offer this stranger help. First, he disturbs you from catching dinner, next, he threatens to kill you and your dog, now he takes over your house and medicine. But you can recognize the desperation in his look, the way he fumbles with the packaging. He is a parent trying to save his kid. Even though you don’t have any of your own you recognize the parental instincts, the same ones you exert on Bellamy.

He looks at you unsure of what to do. He surrenders in defeat and nods at you to go on. You rise to your full height, which doesn’t add up to much compared to him. You walk past them all the way to the back of the living room where you disappear behind a white door. After a couple minutes, you reemerge from the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of steaming vegetable soup you made this morning. You slowly approach the couch watching him for any sign that you might cross a line. Instead of any aggression he takes a step back and allows you to go closer to the girl. You place the bowl and the glass on the coffee table and kneel next to the couch.

The girl opens her eyes and looks at you with distrust. Like father like daughter… you think to yourself. But you try to smile at her try to reassure her. ‘I brought you some soup, love’ you say in your most sincere and kind voice. ‘You must eat a little and then take some pills that will make you feel better’. You try to persuade her. She stares at you for a minute then at the man. They are suspicious of you and they have all the reason to be. You are a stranger to them as much as they are to you. Funny you are in the position to try and win their trust in your own home. You take the spoon you brought for her and dip it in the bowl. You take a spoonful and hover it close to your face blowing a little over it and then you swallow it. You can’t help the little moan of appreciation for your own cooking skills. ‘See? It’s good.’ You look at her with a small smile.

You don’t know where this came from; you blame it on the 6-foot-tall armored stranger whose stare drives daggers at the back of your head and your desire to keep your head on your shoulders and all your blood in your body. You don’t outright hate kids but you were never good around them. With a sigh, she sits upright and takes the spoon from you. She eats slowly. You keep watching her. She is a pretty kid. She has blue eyes and freckles on her small button nose. You wonder if she looks anything like the man behind you. She is pale and sweat collects on her little forehead most likely from her fever. She eats half of the soup you brought her and then turns her gaze towards the man. He hands her the two halves of the pills. She takes them in her small hand and grabs the glass. She hesitates. ‘It’s okay’ you reassure her and with a nod, she puts the half tablets on her tongue following up with large gulps from the glass. She scrunches her little nose in disgust at the chalky taste. ‘Atta girl’ you hear him utter from behind you. ‘Now lay down and rest.' he says to the girl in a stern yet gentle voice. He watches her nod and lie back on the couch her eyes half-lidded. He sighs, 'Good for now. ' he mutters under his breath. His eyes are fixed on her as he gestures to you. 'Come with me.' You rise from the floor and follow him outside the front door.

He leads you outside. When you cross the threshold, he takes a deep breath and a look of relief washes over his stern features. He gestures for you to sit on the front porch with him. 'We need to talk...' 'Yeah' you say crossing your arms defensively over your chest and standing as far away as the length of your porch allows. you take a moment to study him as he fixes you with a cold stare. You notice the many pockets on his vest and belt. A patch on his chest reads S.A.S. He's ex-military, you muse. His uniform makes much more sense now. But the mask still unnerves you.

He leans against one of the wooden porch support beams right hand hovering on the pistol holster. You think it's an act to intimidate you, to remind you that he is still armed and ready to strike you down in your own home. You stare at him a little defiantly. You’ll be damned before you let this weirdo intimidate you on your turf. He studies you from head to boots and back up. You sigh and square your shoulders showing him you are not afraid of him. ‘I’ve been watching you.’ He tells you in a matter-of-fact tone. You try to suppress the surprise on your face. You look down at his boots avoiding his icy gaze.

He’s been stalking you, and the realization dawns on you. You didn’t even notice his presence around the house. Stupid, you think to yourself, I’m growing complacent. But not even Bellamy caught his smell and she usually barks when someone or something comes close to the house. But earlier at the lake, he took you both by surprise. He’s good at keeping his presence concealed, you have to give it to him. You nod to yourself in understanding. He probably knows the layout of your house by now, he knows you are alone, and he waited for you to be outside and ambush you. You start imagining all the horrible things he could have done to you. But no, he instead approached you, gun pointed at you, nevertheless, when he could have already killed you and taken over your house by now. You hum and make eye contact with him.

‘Why keep me alive then?’ you ask him without beating around the bush. You study his mannerisms trying to catch something, anything to prove you he’s human. But he’s as unreadable as a statue. His gaze remains fixed on you, unblinking and stoic. You feel him studying you, taking in every detail of your person. He seems intent on reading into your every move.

In an even tone, he answers, 'Because you’re not a threat.’ His response catches you off guard, ego a little bruised at that, but you can’t argue with his logic. If he wanted to, he could have killed you by now, that’s for sure. You remain silent for a moment, processing his response. ‘But that doesn’t mean I trust you.’ He adds kicking off the beam and taking a step closer to you. He looks down at you tilting his head a little like a bird of prey watching a mouse, waiting for it to give chase and make the hunt more fun. You don’t give in to the urge to run inside and hide in your bedroom. Instead, you take a step towards him and look up at him ‘Because you need me’ you speak quietly. You can imagine a raised brow under that mask. You smile in triumph; even though he acts tough he needs help and all the intimidating façade was in a desperate attempt to get it.

‘I get it’ you continue having him figured out. ‘Your kid is sick and out there dangers are lurking at every turn. You need a place to stay until she gets better.’ You finish voicing your theory on why he’s really here having this conversation with you. His eyes closed in defeat. Gotcha, you smile even more widely at your deduction. ‘You can stay, you say as you turn and walk down the three steps of your porch heading towards the gate. ‘On one condition, you add stopping in your track. You turn fully towards him and he watches you curiously as if you’d have any power to demand him anything. ‘No harm comes to me or my dog’ you say remembering his earlier threats of him offing you both. ‘Do we have a deal?’ it’s not unreasonable, though it irks you that you have to bargain for your safety with a stranger. ‘Deal.’ He says in his usual gruff voice nodding to you in sign of respect for your demand.

‘Good’ you say as you stalk off towards where Bellamy lays muzzled and tied like a prisoner of war. You free her and she jumps at you happy to be in your proximity. She must have been worried sick here all alone. Poor thing. You then go to the gate and slide the too-large bolts meant to keep any unwanted guests outside. Or inside in your case. ‘And to think nothing interesting ever happens around her, right, Bell?’ your rhetorical question is met with a bark of agreement.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #zombie au #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty #slow burn #simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic

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voicesandthoughts · 1 year

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Your eyes were the leaves of autumn

I could swim endlessly in their summer honey

Your warmth within a blizzard, let it swallow me whole

In your eyes I find forests to run through and old paths to walk

I find us flipping pancakes at 2 in the morning

Playing chess, reading poems, sipping tea

Acting out every paragraph we sent, years lost restoring

Just you, and me

We'd have philosophical debates under covers

Surrounded by the stars, our own laughter, the warmth of my lover

Such a warmth that would melt on my tongue as chocolate does

I find myself slowly and desperately melting into you

and In your eyes I find song

Copper against honey and cinnamon swirls dancing into the depths of your iris

I repeat, it is an abyss I could forever fall for and into

I would pull you out to dance in the rain

To my song you composed and played over the phone

To the little songs I'd play on that old dark piano named Hamilton

To the best of songs in your eyes and in your heart

The ones that neither of us would dare ever abandon

I found my religion in your eyes

The only soul to which I would bow and crown

The alter is my hips, to quote Taylor Swift

Our church may be the meeting of our bare curves and lips

I'd trace countless maps and galaxies upon your skin

For our affairs defeat every other sin

I find my rest in them as well

To watch your breathing while you sleep

Pulling yourself closer to me

To lay across your lap and talk for hours

You'd know better than anyone that if we stay up too late I start to sound drunk

It is with you I conquer fear entirely

In fact, I could see us laying in a bed of flowers

I see us pouring finish over the painting of pain life can be

I see us finding peace in each other, no matter how far everything else has sunk

We'll walk down roads, new and old

Find mornings to treasure each other and treasure the little things

Blast pop songs we'd almost forgot as we travel long roads

We would find those two books and add them to an empty library

and to our future, they're only the beginning

Your eyes are windows my love

Into the sweetest soul, my favorite one, and a future even the stars cannot boast above

This remains true, though I think it was the curtains I saw

Curtains I failed to see through

There is no doubt of our love or potential

There is no doubt that to me, you became absolutely essential

In the end though, you had secrets to keep

and one of those not deemed worth telling was me

I gave you all that I had and drank those curtains by the bottle

but you drained them and I reached the bottom of what was meant to be abysmal

and at the bottom of my cup you read aloud words I could not comprehend

The leaves of autumn had finally fallen to spell

"I'm sorry, but you have been poisoned. I hope all is soon swell"

Just like that it was all abandoned

When a true winter came and the life of all else declined

You though it best to end us as well

No care for the mountains we'd climb

nor the past we'd confine

Not for anything we once held enshrined, entwined, divine

I still hope, against what seems to be my best interest

That you'd let me into that window one day

Past the curtains and into all of which you consist

Not dismissed or resisted, not hidden away

Maybe one day

#spilled thoughts #original writing #my writing #love poetry #heartbreak poetry #poetry #poetblr #I may have given up the prompt list for now #at least until I need some extra inspiration or something #there's one or two queued tho #brown eyes

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oldbutnotyetwise · 1 year

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Taking the Early Exit

Trigger Warning - this is about Suicide

I am someone who has through my career seen more than my share of suicides, and as I suspect that you can imagine, suicides bring up a wide range of emotions, not just with the family and friends, but often with the first responders.

I still remember my first suicide investigation, and although I’ve seen countless others, this one stays with me. I was only on the job for a month of two and was still with my training officer. He took me to the scene and dropped me off rather unceremoniously with the detective investigating and left me there. As with many parts of my career this was another one of those times where formal training didn’t exist, it was more a shut up and watch kind of education.

The scene was down a dirt road into some bush, that was off a country road. He probably wouldn’t have been noticed except some passing farmer had called in an abandoned car that he saw from a distance, and had seen for a few days. It was a scene that I was to see several times in my career, black hose and duct tape purchased from Canadian Tire. Hose went over the exhaust pipe and taped on, with the back window down about two inches the hose was draped into the car and the remaining opening was taped shut with the duct tape. He was dead, sitting behind the steering wheel and rigour mortis had set in. I won’t describe the unpleasant task of getting someone in full rigour from a seated position to a flat position for the body removal stretcher.

As I often did I wondered what had been going through this young man’s mind. I felt sad that his last meal on this earth had been takeout from McDonalds. He hadn’t been a planner as he didn’t have any paper, so he wrote his suicide note on the McDonalds bag. If I recall correctly he didn’t feel life was worth living because his girlfriend had let him for someone else.

I remember the woman who had sliced her wrists in an attempt to end her life. I spoke to the young child explaining that everything would be alright but that I had to take her Mom to the hospital. I spent seven or eight hours that night getting to know this woman while we sat waiting to be seen at the hospital. In the end some E.R. doctor came in for a few minutes and deemed the woman to be fine and released her back out onto the street. When I came into work the following nightshift a colleague told me she had killed herself earlier in the day. I had lied to her daughter, the little girl who I told everything would be okay. People can think what they want but unless you have spent hours with someone in the depths of their despair, and listened to their hopelessness, you will never understand the emotional pain someone can feel.

I had one suicide where the man had hung himself in his garage. For the most part I was indifferent towards those who took their life, but I hated this man. You see his wife had left him with his children. He went into his daughters room and asked to talk to her but she explained that she had to leave for school and they could talk later. He then went and hung himself. I hated him for the horrible guilt that he laid upon his daughter by doing what he did. I couldn’t understand any parent wanting to, or perhaps not caring if they did, hurt their child that much.

I remember a lady who had struggled with her mental health for years, even with the supporting husband and family. She sent them on a day trip out of town saying she had to stay home to get some work done, and she then turned the car on in the garage and sat there, falling asleep and slowly drifting from this world into the next. The note she left was full of love for the man she called the best husband in the world, and her daughter who she loved beyond words. She taught me something in her note, it wasn’t about her quitting on her family, it was her giving her family all this credit for making her want to stay around as long as she did. She stayed until she couldn’t bear the pain anymore. My heart went out to both her as well as her family.

Later on in my career I started running into Helium Suicides, quick, effective and painless. The person goes off to their local Walmart and buys a birthday balloon pack complete with a helium tank. Add to that one bag for go over your head and you have everything that you need. They lay down on a bed, hose into the bag loosely tied around your neck, turn the tank on and in moments you have died a painless death. In a sick comical twist there is this older heavily accented woman who has put out a video on how to do it that you can find on line. It is sort of like your grandmother describing how to make cupcakes, except she is actually telling you how to kill yourself.

I had a suicide where someone sitting in a car with two containers of gas set them on fire and created an inferno basically cremating themselves. His personal belongings and suicide note were left off to the side of the road in a bag. I am hard pressed to think of a worse way to kill yourself and we basically collect his remains using a dustpan. His wife and children were adamant that there was no way he would do that, insisting that he had shown no signs. Eventually we shared with them the video of him buying the gas, he was by himself with no one else in the car. It was sad to have to do this to the family but they just would not accept the possibility that he had taken his own life..

You can rest assured that every time I shop at Canadian Tire I am looking for someone buying that black hose with duct tape, or at Walmart as they buy the birthday balloon kit I look to see if they are exhibiting any signs of depression (harder to detect than one might think).

Suicide Notes are an entirely different science, I have seen them written on sticky pads, takeout bags, left on computer screens or in one case an over eighty page suicide note with index and dividers in a binder describing every password and how he wanted things to be looked after regarding his death.

Sadly, in the world of Policing I have had more than my share of comrades who chose to take their lives. I think Policing can often put you under a very dark cloud or in a very dark place, perhaps some just never are able to find their way out. I didn’t see any of them coming, though I am haunted by one where I missed a few clues that I could see clearly when it was too late.

I would guess that I probably investigated hundreds of suicides over my career, both as a front line officer and then later as a detective. Countless patient discussions with families who are unable to accept what has happened, who are positive it is a murder made to look like a suicide. People don’t realize that when a person is serious about taking their life, and they reach that point where they have made the decision to carry out their plan that they often seem happier, relieved not stressed. It’s not that they are better, it’s that they finally can see an end to the darkness that they couldn’t escape during their life.

I would encourage you not to look on these people with judgement. Just understand that they were going through something that you can’t possibly understand, or perhaps that they just weren’t as well equipped to deal with life as others were. When you look at that stranger, or even a friend, know that you don’t really know what they are going through, what is going on behind those eyes. And always, always be kind. It may not save someone, but wouldn’t it be nice if the last thing one of these people experienced was the kindness of a stranger or friend?

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pickledpascal · 1 year

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Secret Weapon

Chapter Four: The Thrill

Warnings: Gore, shootings, guns, violence.

Word Count: 3.7k

Secret Weapon Masterlist

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Seeing Silva in the flesh… It was unsettling. It had to be that blond hair. It was way too light, making him stand out. Ezra had to admit, for a villain Silva wasn’t the most discreet in the way he portrayed himself. Half the people Ezra went up against didn’t always have that… quality about them. There could be aspects about them that made them recognizable but none as stand-outish as Silva.

Ezra and James stood in the cell with a guard, awaiting for M to appear. Sure enough, the sliding doors off to the side of them opened up to reveal M with Tanner behind her. The man of the hour was encased in a glass box, illuminated brightly from the lights inside. Silva sat in the cell, clad in a nicely pressed prison suit. While MI6 had quite the reputation of taking down some of the worst criminals in history, sometimes they liked to treat them nicely. A little too nicely if Ezra had anything to say about it.

M took a breath, stopping as soon as Silva’s eyes caught hers. It was like she saw a ghost. Someone who came back from the dead. Ezra and James share a look before fixing their gaze on the man in the cell. It’s a little too quiet, only sounds in the room being their light breaths and the far off buzzing of the lights.

“You’re smaller than I remember.” Silva spoke first. His voice came through from a speaker, his disembodied voice echoed throughout the small chamber they were in. An enclosure Ezra knew he would despise being in if he were in Silva’s position but Ezra wasn’t the man trying to kill the head of MI6…

M cut back, voice clipped. “Whereas I barely remember you at all.” Oh, no. Ezra could tell she did. Perhaps she remembered him a little too well.

“Strange.” Silva hummed. “For me, it feels just like yesterday.” Then, a smile made its way to the edges of his lips. A creepy one. Perhaps a bit excited for his situation. “Are you surprised?”

“Not particularly. But then, you always were a slippery one.” M admitted, eyes trained on Silva to catch every last move he made. She hadn’t been in the field in a while but her observational skills never suffered.

Silva let out a huff, a laugh. “Maybe that’s why you liked me so much.”

“You flatter yourself.” M hissed.

Silva nodded slightly, tilting his head to look at the pair of agents off to the side of M. “Right. Because they’re your favorites now, aren’t they? Hm? Especially that tall one. I can imagine why.” His eyes raked across Ezra’s form, a dangerously flirtatious glint in his eyes as he stared. It made the agent uncomfortable but he didn’t let it show. James’ gaze hardened at Silva. Being built to kill only enhanced his protective tendencies. “... They kept me for five months in a room with no air. They tortured me, and I protected your secrets, I protected you. But they made me suffer… and suffer… and suffer.” Ezra cocked an eyebrow. Been there, done that. “Until I realized it was you who betrayed me. You betrayed me. So, I had only one thing left: my cyanide capsule. In my back left molar. You remember, right?” MI6 didn’t do things like that anymore. If an agent was killed, then he was killed. There weren’t many cases of kidnapping agents for information anymore. “So I broke the tooth and bit into the capsule. It burned all my insides. But I didn’t die.” He let out a light laugh, shaking his head. “Life clung to me like a disease… And then I understood why I had survived… I needed to look in your eyes one last time.”

M tried her best to not show any emotion. Even if Ezra could tell there was a storm brewing inside her. “Well, I hope it was worth it.” She said simply before she continued, “Mr. Silva, you are going to be transferred to Belmarsh prison where you’ll be remanded in custody until the Crown Prosecution Service deem you fit to stand trial for–”

“Say my name.” Silva interrupted, the sudden change in his emotion surprised M but she quickly composed herself. “Say it. My real name. I know you remember it.”

M narrowed her eyes momentarily. “Your name is on the memorial wall of the very building you attacked. I will have it struck off. Soon, your past will be as nonexistent as your future. I’ll never see you again.” She turned to leave and almost did until…

“Do you know what it does to you? Hydrogen Cyanide?” Silva narrowed his eyes, raising his voice to catch M’s attention. With a glare, he reached into the depths of his own mouth and with a loud, scraping crack, he removed his upper palate. A prosthetic implant that showed the disgusting row of broken, spiked teeth and burned tissue on his face. With a grin, he looked at M. “Look upon your work, mother.”

M watched. The only part of her that showed the horror she was feeling were her eyes. Silva could tell as he looked into them. M quickly turned on her heels and left the room, the agents and Tanner followed her. They walked back to the main corridor of the bunker, M turned all business-like.

“Let me know what you recover from his computer. Has he transmitted the list? If so, to whom? I want this resolved.” M said as they walked, glancing from Tanner to James.

James nodded passively, “Yes, ma’am.”

Tanner is about to leave with M before she stops him, turning to the two agents. “His name is Tiago Rodriguez. He was a brilliant agent but he started operating beyond his brief, hacking the Chinese. The hand-over was coming up and they were on to him so I gave him up. I got six agents back in return and a peaceful transition.” There’s not much more to say. A reasonable act, even if it possibly cost the life of another.

“We should go, ma’am. Board of Inquiry begins in thirty minutes.” Tanner reminded M, a slightly concerned look in his eyes. His entire job was being the assistant to the head of MI6.

M nodded, looking at Bond and Wayne again. “I want to know what’s on that computer.” She said again before she followed Tanner out of the bunker.

The pair watch her for a moment. Ezra then turned to James and pursed his lips, “Time to see if that brain still works, eh?” He joked softly.

They were a bit tense after James was saved from Silva’s island. The man did reveal the reason Ezra was there. Not exactly to be James’ partner but to watch over him, make sure he didn’t die. James didn’t take well to being watched like a hawk. Never did. That’s why he barely had any partners on missions and usually M would respect his choice. Not this time, it seemed… Ezra and James walk to Q’s new headquarters. Alix could feel the tension as soon as they entered the room but they had a feeling the agents would work it out.

“I don’t blame you. Not really.” James admitted in a murmur, looking up at Ezra. His words surprised the dark-haired man. “You’re quite the agent. I just think you didn’t… have to be pulled back into all this because of me.”

Ezra tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as a light smile formed on his face. “You’re blaming yourself. Not a good look, 007.” He playfully nudged James with his shoulder. He understood, though. Agents had a complex. They were confident and charming until it came to someone they loved. Then, they blamed themselves. “You haven’t forced me to do anything I didn’t want. Quite the opposite really.” He hummed with a wink.

James bit the inside of his cheek, refraining himself from smiling. It was hard not to.

“Quit the flirting, will you?” Q shook his head as he looked down at his computer. Alix was typing away as well as a whole team that was trying to get through Silva’s computer. They sat near Q. Apparently Alix was almost on the same level as Q, just not as included with agents besides their father.

“Now, looking at Silva’s computer, it seems to me he’s done a number of slightly unusual things… he’s established fail-safe protocols to wipe the memory if there’s any attempt to access certain files.” Alix explained, adjusting their glasses as they looked at their computer.

Q nodded with an affectionate smile as he listened to Alix. Perhaps there was another reason they were up there with him. If only Alix could see Q where Ezra was standing. “Only about six people in the world could program safeguards like that.” He continued for Alix.

“Of course there are.” James hummed, watching Q carefully attaching cables and wires from Silva’s laptop to the MI6 computer systems. “Can you get past them?”

Q chuckled, “I invented them.” As soon as he’s done attaching the cables, the big screen in the middle of the room lit up and filled with data. “Right then… Let’s see what you’ve got for us, Mr. Silva.” The screen looked like it was filled with a spider-web, data entangled in all sorts of ways. Ezra knew he wasn’t cut out for the Q-Branch. Unlike Alix.

“Sir, what do you make of this?” Alix asked, glancing up at the big screen as the maze of data got even more confusing.

“It’s his Omega site, most encrypted level he has… looks like obfuscated code to conceal it;s true purpose: security through obscurity.” Q narrowed his eyes for a second, hands clicking on his keyboard as he tried his best to decrypt it.

James stared at the images. It certainly screamed Silva. Chaos with all the different lines and arrows and codes. His island was practically a big supercomputer with servers all over the place just to power it. Then the images change, rapidly with each try Q typed.

Q’s tone became irritated. “He’s using a polymorphic engine to mutate the code… Whenever I try to gain access it changes. It’s like solving a Rubix cube that’s fighting back.”

As numbers roll across the screen, Bond’s eyes catch onto something. “Stop.” He quickly said. It was calm but piqued the interest of Ezra and Q. The web stopped mutating now that Q wasn’t trying to get in. A tiny word is visible as James stared. “Granborough… Granborough Road. That’s an old tube stop on the Metropolitan line. Been closed for years. Use that as a key.”

Tapping a few keys, it finally orientated the images. It’s clear to see what it was meant to be. Other words and symbols are legible. “Oh, it’s a map…” Q realized.

“Subterranean London…” Ezra hummed. Then he blinked. Fuck him.

A few clicks rang out, hatches in the floor unlocked and slowly flipped open. It confused the rest but it seemed Ezra and James had the same thing on their minds. “What’s going on? Why are the doors open?” Q asked just before the agents bolt from their positions.

“Silva…” Alix realized, eyes fixed on the place the agents once were.

Ezra and James ran to the corridor, stopping at the observation chamber when they realized the two guards at the chamber were down. Both necks broken. “Q, he’s gone.” James quickly said into his earpiece as he caught sight of a grate in the floor that was pulled aside. Silva’s escape plan. “Wayne, I need you to warn M. Go to her meeting if you have to.” He said, slightly out of breath before he started to climb down.

Seemed Ezra didn’t have much of a choice so he simply nodded. He ran back up the corridor. “Got both of us yet, Q?” He asked into his comm. He needed to get out. Perhaps get a car.

Q answered clearly, “Got both of your locations. Easier since you’re still in the bunker.” He joked softly.

“Glad to know you’re not panicking, Q.” Ezra sighed as he pushed past a few doors. Aggressively since he was still running. Agents and other operatives stared at him. Should they have been following him? Probably but it was 009. Whatever it was, he should have been able to get through it.

“Oh, I am. Jokes are just part of my coping mechanism.” Q admitted.

As Ezra made his way to the surface, he heard Q and James banter yet again. Something about the tube. He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. Ezra can’t have a car, not yet. Running would work but that meant he had to run halfway across London just to get to M. He hoped he’d get there in time. He’d feel guilty, having M’s death on his hands.

So he ran. Ezra pushed his legs as hard as they could go, feet were sore after just a few minutes of running through the crowded city of London. They stared, not that Ezra had much time to look. 009 was back on the job and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to finish it. After all, he had a life to live. One that didn’t include London falling or his child out of a job. What kind of father would be if he let that happen?

Desperation only made Ezra more furious. More motivated. To kill.

Ezra arrived at the Whitehall Office, just a few moments after Silva it seemed. The security guards inside were freshly dead. The agent grabbed his gun, time to open fire. He quickly went down the hall, shooting stay goons as he arrived at the Board of Inquiry. Such a strange thing to see panic in a usually calm room.

Silva quickly caught sight of Ezra, turning his fire on him but the agent quickly ducked behind one of the desks. The courtroom was a mess, shots getting fired in all directions. As discreetly as possible, Ezra made his way around the room only getting shot at twice. Silva missed both times.

He wasn’t the best shot.

James burst in, adding to the line of fire from the cover of a doorway. 007 took a survey of the room as quickly as possible, looking for a distraction of some sort to get M out of there. He glanced at Ezra, winking at him. It took a moment for Ezra to register it but he quickly nodded. The pair pick a fire extinguisher to shoot and do so immediately–steaming white powder obscures their vision of Silva.

But it also obscures Silva’s sight of them.

Eve and Ezra make their way to the middle of the room for some cover fire, letting Tanner guide M out of the building. It seemed Silva had a similar idea because moments later, the offensive fire died down causing James to try and chase after him. Ezra did the same.

As soon as the pair burst out of the building, they’re too late. Silva was in a police vehicle and drove away. But then… there’s another vehicle off to the side of the building. The agents share a simple look.

Seemed they had the same idea.

Soon, M and Tanner emerge from the building. Tanner helped M into the car, trying to climb into the other door before the car shot off. He’s confused before he recognized the driver as James.

“007, 009, what the hell are we doing?” M demanded. Ezra looked at M through the rearview mirror. Neither of them answered. “Are you kidnapping me?”

Ezra tried, jokingly, “That would be one way of looking at it.”

Slightly skeptical, M looked out the window at all the chaos happening outside. EMTs were driving, screaming in the opposite direction. Toward the building. It wasn’t exactly hard to put together what the agents were doing. Smart, really.

“Too many people are dying because of me.” M sighed, parts of her walls were coming down. Though, not fully. They never would.

Bond looked at her in the rearview mirror. Their eyes met after a while. “If he wants you, he’s going to have to come and get you. We’ve been one step behind Silva from the start. It’s time to get out in front. Change the game.” The plan was slowly starting to form in his mind.

“And I’m to be the bait?” M simply asked. The pair nodded, surprised when she agreed. “Alright. Just us. No one else.” She wouldn’t have it any other way. The two agents she trusted most with her life.

It couldn’t go wrong. Could it?

Then Ezra pressed a button on the dash of the car. A comms system. “Q… We need help.” The man said, glancing at the man next to him.

“I’m tracking the car, where are you going?” Oh, Q. He was always the voice of logic. Well, they didn’t exactly need to tell him that at the moment. He’d see.

James spoke up next. “We got M. We’re about to disappear.”

“What?” Two voices this time. Ezra could tell who the second one was. Alix. God, they were so clueless sometimes. They probably got it from him, to be honest.

Slightly amused by the inclusion of Alix, James let out a chuckle. “I need you to lay a trail of breadcrumbs impossible to follow for anyone except Silva. Think you can do it?” Right, back to business.

“I’m guessing this isn’t strictly official?” Alix asked over the comms, quieter.

Ezra admitted softly, “Not even remotely.”

“So much for my promising career in espionage…” Q’s voice was farther away. Ezra could imagine his disappointed expression already.

—--

M, James, and Ezra stand at a series of different storage units, the car behind them. Ezra looked around at the different units, he had one here too…. The agent walked around to try and remember where it was. M watched as James fiddled with a lock on one of the doors. “Well, I’m not hiding in there if that’s your plan.” She said with a light scoff.

“We’re changing vehicles. Trouble with company cars is they have trackers.” Bond said matter-of-factly as he pulled the door up. It revealed a 1964 Aston Martin DB-5 in a light gray, almost silver color. His favorite gadget.

M let out a light laugh, “Oh and I suppose that’s completely inconspicuous.”

“Where’s Ezra?” James changed the subject, looking around outside the unit until the agent appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a few guns in hand.

Ezra went to the DB-5’s trunk. “Wherever we’re going, I have a feeling we’re going to need to stock up, hm?” He popped the trunk open, throwing the guns in the trunk.

James smiled. He liked the way Ezra thought. Preparedness was not Bond’s forte. With a kiss to his cheek, Bond ran over to Ezra’s storage unit. He took a few more bigger guns before he pulled the door down. The trunk was filled with quite a few guns and other gadgets once Ezra closed the trunk. The pair got in, M sat in the back as the DB-5 roared to life out of the lock up.

They’re on the outskirts of London already and Ezra leans into the passenger seat. Might as well try to get comfortable, he could tell they’d be there for a while.

“It’s not very comfortable, is it?” M hummed as he looked around inside the car. One would have thought she would feel at home in the car, it was about as old as she was.

James flicked up the cover on the stick shift to reveal three buttons. Ejector seats. One for the driver, another for the passenger, and the last for the backseats. “Are you going to complain the whole way?” He’s slightly irritated but there’s a light affectionate glint in his eyes.

“Oh, go on then. Eject me. See if I care.” M crossed her arms, her shawl moving with her.

Soon, they’re not in London anymore. City was far behind them, only the rolling hills of the countryside started to fill their vision.

M spoke up again, “So where are we going?”

“Back in time. Somewhere we’ll have the advantage.” James answered. Surprisingly cryptic for someone who liked straight-forward things.

Suddenly it clicked for Ezra. James hadn’t had much of a life before MI6. But there was one thing. Skyfall. His home.

They were going home.

Hours later, it was midnight and M was fast asleep in the back seat. Ezra turned his head to focus on the road, then he glanced at James. “Are you sure about this?” There wasn’t much going back now, even if James wanted to. “I can handle it from here.” Ezra whispered.

Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, James shook his head. He knew Ezra could handle this alone. Far more gracefully than he ever could. But he needed to prove to himself that he could do this again. Be the tool that kills the machine. “I know, darling. But I need to see it through. For my own sake.” James admitted softly.

Admitting his own faults to Ezra came easy to him. Far too easy than he thought it would ever be with anyone… Besides Vesper.

He never thought love would come to him again. Not like this. There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t think of her. Until Ezra Wayne inserted himself into his life. At the beginning, Vesper was on his mind all the time but then she was slowly washed away like the waves outside his windows. Bond didn’t forget her. No. But existing with the guilt of her death became easier when the dark-haired man would smile or laugh or if James would get the rare chance to see him shirtless.

Well, the only time James did see Ezra was purposeful. The taller man had left his bathroom door open by accident and James took a peek inside. Ezra was preparing for a shower, steam covered the mirror in front of him and he turned slightly. Two adjacent scars stood underneath Ezra’s pectorals among lines of different tattoo lines running down his arms and torso.

James just hoped he could live another day to see the rest of his body.

#oc #daniel craig character #daniel craig #james bond #james bond x ezra wayne #ezra wayne #007jamesbond #009 #spies in love #spies #secret agents #secret weapon

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smallrainclouds · 3 years

Text

Tangled starlights

(working title)

Also hc that Hypnos is also working when he sleeping, he does his job as God of sleep. He can also do a normal sleep so he can get rest. But he doesn't get nearly as much he needs.

Part four of marriage AU

No beta.

🌙💤💤🌙

You stood in the dusty room as Hypnos floated around, lighting the candles on the walls.

You didn't think you would return to this room. Not after what happened a few days ago. Your stomach twisted in anxiety. You weren't upset exactly but you didn't expect such a strong response.

"And no one has kept up with the library?" You asked. You didn't want to think about *it* right now.

You walked along the shelfs, the scrolls seemed to be calling for you.

"Mother made this place before Hades took over the house for her and he didn't deem any of this stuff important." He replied, and pointed to a door at the far end of the room.

Hypnos waved a hand around. "There are more in that room also. When she was younger, she used to collect as many stories and knowledge as she could. But she never took the time to actually organize it."

Hypnos lit the last candle and floated down to stand. He kept some distance between You and him. Only his bright eyes followed you around the room as you wondered.

"If you don't want to, it's totally fine. This is a lot-"

"N-no. I want to!" You shook your head. "I helped Athens with her library the few times she needed to update it."

You stopped and turned with a smile. "Also I like a good story and I don't doubt that your mother has some great ones in here."

Hypnos returned your smile and you tried not to think about how close he was last night.

"Great! I'll get Dusa to help you clean up the dust in here." He glanced around the room, "And maybe some chairs and tables."

"Yes. Might be helpful." You teased him. And felt a little warm at his laugh.

🌙💤💤🌙

Several hours in and you were bone tired and dusty.

So.Very.Dusty.

"Hey Dusa! How is it looking up there?" You called out. Dusa quickly floated to You. Her green, shiny skin was now dark gray with dust but that didn't stop the beaming smile.

You smiled back, already so fond of Dusa. It felt like You had spent a day with one of your sisters.

"I think we got all the dust! I'm just sorry we had to remove all the scrolls out of their place." She glanced at the piles of scrolls in the corner, carefully stacked together.

You shook your head, "It's okay. I've been told it was already a bit of a mess so no harm done."

"O-oh good!" She bobbed in the air. " I think-"

"Oh wow, I didn't realize we had so many scrolls." An male voice drifted through the door.

You and Dusa both turned toward the door, surprised at the visitor.

Zagreus stood, hands on hips as he looked at the pile that loomed over him.

"O-oh Prince! Be careful!" Dusa rushed over to him. You followed, of course he will show up when you and Dusa were both a mess.

"Don't worry, I won't touch it." Zagreus smiled at You. " Sorry for coming at a bad time. I heard from Mother Nyx that Hypnos' wife was taking over the library. And I realized I haven't induced myself yet. I'm Zagreus.

"My name is Y/N and I would shake your hand but…" You held up your hands, covered in dust and grime.

"Of course. If you ever need anything, just let me know." Zagreus' mismatched eyes studied your face as he said it.

"Thank you, Prince Zagreus. Dusa has been an amazing help already." You tilted your head to Dusa who blushed.

"O-oh it is not a problem! I'm happy to help!" Dusa murmured.

"Dusa is amazing isn't she? Our hardest worker for sure." Zagreus praised, he sounded so proud of her.

"Oh oh my, excuse me! I- I need to get cleaned up." Dusa rushed out, her blush visible even with the dust

"Oh dear." Zagreus said. "We might have been a bit much. But it is good that she hears it. Goodness knows Father doesn't understand how hard she works for this house."

You weren't quite sure what to say. You didn't want to take sides yet or ever if it can be avoided. You have seen too many times what happens when two gods get into a fight with each other.

"You'll have to forgive me but Dusa is right. A hot bath sounds like a dream right now." You smiled at him, glad for the excuse.

"Of course! I will leave you to it, Y/N!" Zagreus nodded and waved goodbye as he left.

You sighed. Hopefully this room will be worth the trouble.

🌙💤💤🌙

You couldn't remember the last time you felt so relaxed. There was nothing like a hot bath, you mused.

You tore off a part of the warm bread and popped it into your mouth. You eyed the pomegranate but went for the olive. Save the best for last you thought.

You laid on top of the covers, feeling like the most spoiled being alive. You went for another olive.

What a day. But at least you were moving forward and now there was a job for you to do.

inevitably, you thought about Hypnos. He was still at work, you last heard. You knew he slept on the job but that wasn't a rest. Not really.

You thought about what he said before. How being more powerful than your sisters. No one ever said that, why would they? It is clear what the gods liked.

Hermes may have the only exception (at least until Hypnos) that enjoyed her powers but even then he never said what Hypnos did.

Hermes had always pushed a little more, made her try harder to be a little more quick and clever. Your older brother in everything but blood. Hermes had been one of the few people You missed other than your sisters.

He did travel to the underworld sometimes. Maybe you could see him again. Give him letters for your sisters.

Your eyes drifted closed, the dark red

canopy were the last thing you saw before sleep overtook You.

🌙💤💤🌙

There were sounds outside your door. You blinked at the candles by your bedside. They were much lower than before you went to sleep. The only sign that any time had passed at all.

You frowned at your door. It sounded like an argument. You stood and quietly walked to the door. You pressed your ear against it.

But the bloody thing was so thick, you weren't sure what was being said.

But you weren't going to just stand there especially after being woken up so rudely. You looked around your chambers for a weapon. Just in case.

You frowned when you realized there was nothing. You would just have to be ready to slam the doors.

With a deep breath, you pushed your bedchambers open.

The two men outside went quiet. Hypnos and another man You didn't know stood before you.

"Great, just great. Now look at what you did." Hypnos snapped at the other man.

"Me?" The man snapped back. He was about the same height as Hypnos but unlike Hypnos he wore only dark colors. His scythe loomed over all three as it gleamed even the candlelight.

"Yes you!" Hypnos grumbled. He turned to You, his normal smile gone. And you couldn't help but notice how much deeper the black circles have gotten.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. You will have to forgive us for our lack of manners. You can go back to sleep now." Hypnos turned back to the man. "Brother, I think our 'little talk' is done for now. You should be getting back to work right?" Hypnos' tone was sharp.

You didn't realize he could sound like that. Also brother?

The man frowned, and looked at You then at Hypnos.

"Fine, but you have a duty to the house. You need to grow up at some point."

Then he turned on his foot and walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Hypnos sighed as he looked at you. He was floating, the candles highlighted his face.

"I didn't know you had a brother." You stepped out of your bedchambers. You were only in a draped linen gown, a little inappropriate but you were too curious not to know.

"Two brothers, Thanatos and Charon. You just 'met' my twin, Thanatos." Hypnos said.

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice and your heart twisted. You will ask more about his brothers later.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" You felt silly asking the god of sleep if he got any rest. But those dark circles were all the proof you needed.

"Sure, I fall asleep on all time especially on the job!" Hypnos' smiled meanly, his hands spread out in a mock shrug.

"I mean real sleep." You crossed your arms. "Surely, the naps you take aren't enough."

Almost out of nowhere, a thought came.

"Wait, what exactly are you doing when you napping?" You asked.

Hypnos raised an eyebrow and silent took over.

"Does it matter?" He finally responded.

"It matters. At least to me." You didn't know what to make of this whole argument. There was something you were missing but you don't know what.

Hypnos was silent as he stopped floating. He walked closer, his light golden eyes not leaving your own eyes. You resisted stepping back, staying in place with your arms crossed. You cursed how warm you felt when Hypnos stopped in front of you.

"My brother is the God of Death. He gets those last few minutes of a human's life. Unbelievably terrifying for those poor humans I imagine." Hypnos leaned forward, his hand pressed against the wall, next to your waist.

You could feel a blush crawl up your neck and cheeks. "And what do you get?" You asked, hating the small tremble in your voice.

"One third. Sometimes more than that. Slowly over the years. When I sleep, I can go to humans and give them sleep or take away any sleep they want."

Hypnos' eyes were beautiful and you felt so exposed.

"So you haven't been getting much real sleep at all." You said, tearing your eyes away. On impulse, you reached up to touch the obol. You heard his breath hitched.

You had to put a stop to this. Or you would do something very foolish.

"Right then come along." You grabbed his wrist and pulled him into your bedchamber.

"Ah…" Hypnos sounded unsure.

"You need some sleep. I can't trust that you will if I leave you alone in your bedroom." Your blush was getting worse. "Also I doubt I will be able to get any more sleep. So I'm just going to keep an eye on you while I finish up some letters."

You cleared off the bed and gestured towards your bed.

Hypnos just stood there. "You don't-"

You waved his words away. "No one will bother you in here, so just try to get a nap in."

You sat down at your desk, feeling very foolish. You grabbed a blank paper and started writing down tasks for the library.

You heard Hypnos moved around and settled in your bed. You thought you heard him murmured something but didn't turned around to look.

Eventually you heard his soft breathing. This time you did look. He didn't get under the cover but did take one of the pillows and was on the opposite side you slept on.

If anyone asked why you allowed this, you just say you were helping your husband as a wife should.

Nothing more, nothing less.

You nodded, and tried not to think how your heart fluttered earlier.

🌙💤💤🌙

Your eyes blinked open. Frowning in confusion, you looked down at your papers. A blanket slipped off your shoulders and pooled around your feet.

Last night ( or day) memories flooded back. You had fell asleep at your desk.

You turned to look at your bed but Hypnos was gone. You didn't like how disappointed you felt. No need for that for that, you scolded yourself. You grapped the blanket to return it.

Only when you got closer, did you see what Hypnos left behind.

On the bed, a bottle of nectar and a note was tucked under the bottle.

'Thanks.' No name or anything, not that You needed one.

There was however a picture of an smiling face next to it.

"Oh Hypnos." You laughed.

Oh...

Oh dear what have You gotten yourself into to?

🌙💤💤🌙

#hypnos x reader #hades game #hades hypnos #this fic had taken over my life #the brothers love each other #they just having a rough patch rn #Hypnos could be bit of a jerk though #i love him

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lithemochi · 3 years

Text

⥇ scared of falling in love | draco malfoy. ™

↬ summary: destiny can transform someone with an empty past into one with emotion and affection.

↬ featuring: draco malfoy x fem!reader

↬ recommend song: radio by lana del ray, or ava by famy.

Draco never learned to love, always told that love was a sign of weakness. From a father that wants him to be a perfectionist. To a mother, that became absent. They deemed something that is worth showing affection unnecessary and ineffective. Until he saw you. You were new, a modest but attractive transfer student; in the same year as him. One day, you spun around in potions class to talk to Ron. Draco turned to tell something to Goyle when he locked eyes with you; the feelings manifested themselves.

There at that moment, his bitter expression grew softer and a light pink shade imprinted on his face. Those few seconds felt like hours, a magnificent millisecond that translated into an unforgettable interaction. The world paused, and everything seemed unreal. Your eyes painted an image of pureness, innocence, and most of all, beauty; that Draco could imagine in his mind.

After that incident, you kept appearing in Draco’s life. When going to class, the atmosphere, your aura, would illuminate and get rid of the dark cloud hanging over people’s heads. Or when visiting the Hog’s Head, awaiting his friends to show up, you’d walk in. The same smile that flourished on your face, copied and pasted onto his.

Lunch and dinner were his favorite time of the day. Draco would look at you from afar and admired your delicacy. The way your hair curls in a specific way; or when you’d tilt your head to the right when puzzled. His eyes would linger upon yours. The bags under them would be very noticeable. Some days, more than others. It induced to him you are a hard worker. Maybe someone that pulls all-nighters or maybe you’re very sleep-deprived.

He would also recognize patterns of yours. The way you covered the mole; one of your cheek; shielding it from society. It could be with makeup or a hand being there. His favorite habit of yours would be when your hair would get in the way and you’d blow it aside, making the hair flick in the opposite direction. His favorite element of you would be the freckles and beauty marks scattered around your face, creating a masterpiece.

Draco realized deep down he was a hopeless romantic, but he never revealed it. All those so-called emotions never stuck with him. He’s never cared about someone so much besides you. You are the light to his darkness. You are the queen of his kingdom. He would do everything to protect you and honor you. Nurture you, even though he never experienced it.

Whether or not it’s crucial to tell you right now; Draco knows it’ll all be worth it in the end.

The sound of laughter: the sweet sound that could be construed as a lullaby, soon interrupted his thoughts. He leans on the cement wall, head down, arms crossed at his chest. Something told him to look up.

He did, and Draco made eye contact with you. The same notion of sympathy and hospitality filled his pallet. This time, he waved and smiled back; chuckling when realizing your face flustered. You wandered with delight, grinning.

Pansy nudges him. “Are you going to talk to her? Or do you think Blaise can take her for himself? I heard he asked her out-”

Draco ignored the comment and peeled himself off of the wall and away from the howling that his friends were making. He couldn’t grasp the idea of you being with someone else. Walking endlessly, trying to get his mind off of you. He made it to the astronomy tower, cold and windy on a Saturday evening.

why blaise, out of all people. why not me? i knew i should have asked her earlier! ; echoing the phrase in his mind. Draco created a sort of doubt in his head; reminding himself that what he’s doing is poor and uncalled for. As if a devil and an angel were hovering over his shoulder, he needed to do something. You have him wrapped around your finger without you even knowing. You were the only person who could make him feel this way. The only person who made him feel loved. Even though he didn’t know you personally, he knew the image of you and how you portrayed yourself. Which is the only thing that mattered.

Draco walks over and sits on the rear bench, parallel to the stair and the globe in the center.

He lies there constructing scenarios in him that would fit the situation that he is in; overthinking it.

Maybe I should just talk to her. I don’t know what I would say, should I be casual or should I go with a more flirty approach. She doesn’t even know who I am. How should I address myself “hi my name is Draco. I’ve been admiring you for the past seven months.” -no, that’s weird. Maybe just “hi my name is Draco, what’s yours.”

He shielded his eyes with his hand, his fingers grazing on the side of his eyebrow. He sweetly whispers “Oh Merlin, why can’t I say what I feel.”

“Draco?”

Quickly Draco got up and pulled out his wand. “Who’s there!” delivered in a forceful tone. Angry an emotion he knew how to express boiled inside. He wasn’t in fear of his life; felt as though something has invaded his privacy.

There, a figure stood in the corner, slowly walking towards him. Like any normal person, he backed up, hitting his back on the railing. With the wand positioned at the said person, he spoke again, yelling, “Who are you and why are you here?” He can make out two hands raised as the shadow came to light.

They spoke, enchantingly, “I finally found you.”

to be continued. heheheh

#draco #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco imagines #draco malfoy fic #draco fuckingmalfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco angst #draco fluff #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter x reader #draco drabble #draco oneshot #slytherin #draco x female reader #harry potter imagines #harry potter headcannon #Draco Malfoy

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throwawayfish · 3 years

Text

𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐱 𝐏𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: it’s never easy to always be in the honeymoon phase of a relationship, but being with the pogue king just needs a bit more effort to keep it that way

warnings: platonic!rafe x reader (not a lot in this chapter), fluff, angst, language, minor drowning incident, lowercase intended, typos for sure

a/n: we’ve reached the end of the series! whew! it’s been a long time coming. read to find out what happens to jj and y/n!! gif used is mine :)

interact with the series masterlist or let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

the morning light didn’t shine through your windows for hours on the daily. the drawn curtains shielding you from the rays as you used as a barrier from the outside world, waking up later than what you’re used to. it was with bold determination that you managed to gather yourself and do what you normally would. get up, fix the bed, do bathroom agendas and cook food— either only for you or the best friends you had plans to meet with.

three days had passed since you last saw the group. staying within the rundown walls of your house, wallowing in heartbreak and, although you hate to admit it, self pity. but today was different, as pope persuaded her to surf - knowing that he was just trying to get her to go by using flattery - but she agreed after telling the lad he poor enticing skills.

the sun was at somehow at its peak as you arrived your usual spot, colossal waves in view as the silhouettes of your friends surfed from the distance. their laughs being carried away with the wind towards you let your feet sink in the hot sand.

though you loved hearing their faint laughters, the absence of the the one you were too nervous to run into once again didn’t come unnoticed. you propped your board by the palm tree that offered shade, peeling off the summer dress you had on as it revealed your favourite bikini. you waxed hastily, ready to get your body submerged in the ocean.

tucking your board under your arms, you ran to the white water that’s widespread on the shallow part, watching your friends wait for the set that was coming up as you ventured to them excitedly as you passed the shore break, using the riptide to get on the deep end faster.

once you reached the section they were at, it was as if it was your deep seated understanding with the rest to paddle out and catch waves of your own. it was deemed throughout the group- that eventually became passed on the island, that you and the blonde pogue were one’s greatest competition when it came to surfing. you both found it funny, setting the pressure aside and let your adoration for each other mask it.

the swells were developing faster, some breaking earlier than usual and some not being worth to catch. soon enough, the two boys left to rest for a little while, having been there an hour before kie and an extra half hour before you.

silence filled the air for awhile, the only thing easing the tension in the atmosphere was the crashing of the waves. it was soon ceased as the brunette spoke, “i’m sorry...” you looked at her, prompting her to continue “about you and jj.”

your lips formed a thin line, not knowing whether to make a face or smile. “i hope you guys could work it out.” that statement alone impelled you to let out a scoff.

“you’re actually telling me that...you’re actually telling me that?” you asked in annoyance, she bowed her head before building up the courage to speak again.

“we weren’t doing anything behind your back.” she started, “i know it doesn’t seem that way but believe me, we didn’t. i can’t do that to myself, to jj, and i respect and love you too much to do that to you.”

although you guys we’re still floating on your surfboards, hair and skin soaked in salty water, you could guarantee that a few tears fell from her eyes. but knowing kie and being best friends for so long, tears were not what you needed to have assurance of her sincerity, it was simply her bringing her walls down to talk her feelings away.

“i appreciate that a lot. i’m sorry too if i doubted you, it just wasn’t hard to do so when he has chosen you over me multiple times. and it’s not like it’s a bad thing to be closer than ever, he just doesn’t know how to get his priorities straight, i guess.” you answered, letting the water cradle you as you eased through a conversation.

it was not hard to forgive kiara, positive that what she was saying was true. you looked out to the horizon as you were at the apex of a wave, closing your eyes but cutting it short as you heard her speak, “he loves you...” you looked into her eyes and can see the honey colour of them spill out genuineness

“...so much. but he was doubting as well. the reason why he kept on meeting me was he was asking me stuff to know if you were sure about him.” you furrowed your brows, keeping you gaze at her as your stare asked for more questions.

“it’s not my place to speak for him. it’s better if you guys talk. that night was full of rage, make another one full of understanding. all i want right now is to be your best friend again.” a lot of weight was lifted off your shoulder, you clouded mind started to clear as you paddled slightly over her to wrap her in your arms “you never even lost me, kie.” she returned the hug as you both caught a few more waves.

as you both decided that it was time to paddle back, the period dropped as the tide leveled out offering a few entries into nice waves. kiara, out of breath let you have time for yourself as you insisted that you’ll be fine alone and waited a few minutes for a nice set to conquer and kick out the channel.

a herculean wave came to view which quickly capped out. paddling over after it broke, you saw the second one gaining such momentum as it approached someone like you who’s been expecting a day ender.

intimidating was the word you described it in your head. it towering over you as the sun rested at the shoulder of it, the glare making it harder to examine what it’s going to do whether it is going to close down or give you the time to catch it.

after seeing the line for previous waves, you decided to paddle out, fully committing in it being one of the difficult waves that size that you surfed in.

but that commitment lead you to a minor downfall as the higher you got, the clearer the reefs became as it drew off from the ocean ground. making you realize that it would be a steep giant that you needed to brace yourself for.

things didn’t not go your way as your board basically was propped on air, not giving you any control to position yourself. you dropped on the cold water, covering your head as you landed exactly where the impact zone is.

reeling your board in, you tried to catch a decent sized wave, hoping to ride out on the white water to get out of the section faster. your arms were killing you, not cooperating as it just made you slower.

soon enough you once again submerged, a plethora of underwater billow surrounding you. the current tossing you around, making you tumble worse than a gymnastics class make their students do.

when you surfaced, an engine could be heard nearing you, a voice shouting your name as it reached your seemingly lifeless body. the yells were indistinct, your board long forgotten as your back hit the fine sand before you were rolled over to your side, your eyes still closed.

“y/n, you okay?” you heard, slowly gaining back your consciousness, you felt hands soothing your back as you opened your eyes, meeting your favourite blue ones.

jj had his moments, and running to you was his solution to everything. but when he got in a fight with his father, rebuttals about you set his insides on fire as luke degraded him to the point where even he, the guy who shrugs everything off and continues to live his life, questioned if he was even worthy of you.

that’s what lead him to spending his time with kie. as he couldn’t feel any pressure when he’s around her. asking her what he could do to improve about himself to be enough for you and always getting the same response that he already was.

but as he saw you with rafe, that set off the recurrence of his negative thoughts. the smile that you give to mostly everyone suddenly became a special one for the kook, the goodbye wave you did suddenly became a secret message of i miss you, and the words of his dad of him being useless suddenly became true.

it was illogical, as him out of all people should know who you were, being that you’ve been friends for as long as you can remember. but you ending your guys’ relationship worsened the situation.

he came from the garage where the his dad kept his equipments. having to steal keys from a drunk luke wasn’t such a task as he was drunk himself, the confidence sinking in as he approached the steps of the house that didn’t even look like one.

he did the sort of thing every now and then, taking the phantom for a spin was his escape, even though it was usually followed by a few punches when his dad finds out. he learned overtime how to be more furtive about it, knowing when to take the boat and how to use it without his dad finding out.

the surfing invite got to him, pope never leaving anyone out of the group. however, he still refused as he knew you were coming. positive that you cannot last three days without acting like a sane person, he wanted to give you a fun day to be with the others without him ruining it.

but he could just not see you, so he drove to your constant place to surf. the place where you both came to terms with your feelings and the one where you had discussions of how you both will have the chance to surf at Mavericks.

he watched smiling at your figure dancing on your board. the water glistening beneath as if it was worshipping you as you became one with the ocean, letting it control you. but he immediately was in action as he saw you wipe out and get toppled by gigantic swells multiple times. it wasn’t an easy task, as the set made it difficult to reach for you in his first try, having to drive away briefly as the set approached. he pulled your body onto the phantom as he finally had the chance to, his heart breaking at the sight of your once velvet lips now turned blue.

the others were just as worried for you when the blonde reached the shore. jj performing cpr before turning you sideways to let out any saltwater from within as he shouted your name. he felt helpless, but it was soon replaced with relief as your weak eyes made contact with his cerulean ones. the tightness in his chest loosening the grip it had.

you sat up as you looked away and was immediately given water by john b. jj running a hand through his already messy locks “don’t you scare me like that ever again!” frustration masked in his voice.

the others were reassured of your safety already, but they also knew that it was time to leave you two to talk, and with that being said they excused themselves to go wait in the twinkie.

“uh..thank you.” you broke the awkward silence, offering a smile that didn’t last long as you looked at anywhere but him “you’re welcome. are you fine? do you need to go to the hospital?”

you shook your head, walking back to the palm tree where your things are. you put on your dress as the golden cast from the sun complimented your tanned skin. you began to pack up when you heard him speak

“can we talk?” he pleaded, a heavy sigh escaped your lips. your head and lungs were still stinging from almost drowning, and you knew tears were not going to help. but you also knew that if you didn’t talk now then nothing will ever be resolved, so you nodded, sitting on the beach chair john b brought, him sitting on the other one across from you.

“what have we become?” you joked and just as you were expecting he laughed with you while nodding in agreement “i was an asshole— screw that, i still am! i’m an asshole.” he paused and looked down before getting out a regretful laugh “but i’m in love with you. i still am.”

“an asshole that’s in love with me? what a dream.” tears brimmed the corners of your eyes. you reached out, grabbing his chin to make him look at you, “you hurt me,” swallowing the lump that formed in your throat before continuing “you made me feel like i was nothing to you anymore. you were my definitely when i was just a maybe to you.” you breathed deeply “but i hurt you too.” you sniffled

“the ways you tried to take your mind off things, me, was kinda fucked up. you weren’t thinking about me, only yourself...” he tried to cut you off but you raised your hand to let him know you weren’t finished.

“but jj you need to know you’re enough for me.” this time he interrupted “kie told you.” he said in statement rather than a question. you nodded, grabbing hands and held it tight.

“she did. and how dare you think i’m high maintenance and have high standards! you have more skincare products than me!” he laughed and wiped the tear that threatened to fall.

“i just thought you deserved better. seeing you with rafe at the ferry just set it off even though i know you would never cheat on me. you cried when you saw a frog eat a fly! but i could never give you the life he could, or any other guy in this case. i live off of beer and extra grits from the wreck—”

“i love you. i think that’s an enough answer, is it not.” he stoop up for a moment before dropping on his knees to match your height. caressing your rose blush cheeks that got more saturated as he tried to catch your eye.

“can we please try this again?” he queried, his eyes showing the red veins as he tried to stop his tears from falling once more. you smiled, nodding and throwing your arms around him, him almost losing his balance as he caught you.

“i thought you’d never ask.” you placed a chaste kiss on his cheeks and buried your face on the crook of his neck. it was quiet for a few seconds before he muttered

“what about rafe...”

you kissed him. your soft ones brushing against his chapped ones. but you didn’t care, his lips were on yours, at that moment you knew it was definitely him, you weren’t wrong the first time.

“i’ll eat grits for the rest of my life if it means being with you. rafe’s my best friend but you’re the one i want. now shut up and kiss me again.”

your hearts beat faster and faster as your lips collided with his own. he knew this kiss was the seal he needed. you thought it would be only be a short and sweet one, but as you began to pull away his arms were on your figure. one at the back of your neck as he deepened it, the other on your lower back to pull you closer. a gesture that didn’t compare to a surging tide as it made your knees weak.

once he pulled away, he brushed his nose with yours. his eyes stayed close as he was contented in feeling “you sure you’ll be satisfied being with me? because we’re off on a really bad start already and i’m telling you, you ain’t going anywhere.”

“i think that kiss was an answer in itself, love.”

you pulled in an embrace, placing a kiss on your temple as he squeezed you lightly “hell yeah!”

you drove up the roads of the outerbanks, the windows of your old vehicle rolled down as you bathed under the starlit canvas, the breath of the moon sending soothing kisses to your face.

the estate was still well lit, majority of the light in the deck turned on as a shadow appeared from one of the pillars that was blocking it. you ventured forward, confirming your guess as to who it was. once they looked down, you waved and they immediately ran down to meet you.

“y/n!!!” they yelled in excitement as they clung onto you. you giggled as you put your index finger on your lips, mentioning for her to lower her tone as you pulled their hair jokingly “what’s up, sneezy”

“you’ve missed 8 sleepovers. that’s a lot to make up for if you ask me.” she sassed and you just rolled your eyes.

soon enough you were inside the mansion once again. it felt like a void has been filled, feeling like going there was a part of you. not because of how big it is or how you get to experience staying over once in a while compared to your house or the uncomfortable pull out that you loved nonetheless. it was because you felt like the people here, or atleast the ones in your age range, considered you as family.

sarah jumped up from the living room couch as she saw you, rambling about how she missed you and how you miss out on a lot. but she promised to tell you all about it, asking you if you wanted to stay the night. you knew she wasn’t going to let you go anyway so you agreed. promising to catch up after you do what you initially came for.

the high end door was slightly open, a faint light from the inside tainting the dimly lit hallway. you pushed it open eagerly, seeing the boy on his bed finishing a can of soda. his slicked back hair making you laugh as you leaned against the doorframe.

“hey kook! wanna be friends again?”

the end.

it’s been a journey writing this series! i hope you guys enjoyed the ride as much as i did. it took a minute to finish it bc i had finals but especially because i wanted to somehow give an unsatisfyingly (if that even is a word) satisfying ending. thanks for the love on this series and see you guys in my other works!! ♡

i couldn’t tag some of you guys for some reason. there are also others who probably changed their usernames so if you see this and want it updated or you want to be added to the taglist just let me know :)

@sunsetholland @bibliophilewednesday @drewswannabegirl @spilledtee @ifilwtmfc @maybebanks @obx-snippets @glux64 @rae131415 @pink-meringues @jeyramarie @lust-for-pan @k-roleplay20 @prejudic3 @rafeyybabyy @mj-20182 @makrenee @hoodpankow @softtfordrew @diverrdown @obxhstyles @suicidexdarkness @edyn-nicole @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @obxloves

#outerbanks #jj maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x reader #obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank series #obx imagine #kiara carrera #rafe cameron #john b routledge #pope heyward #jj x reader #obx series

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writing-red · 4 years

Text

The Daughter of the Dog | 1

Fred Weasley x SirusBlacksDaughter!Reader

Summary: That fateful night that would wrongfully land him in Azkaban Sirius Black left his three-year-old daughter at the door of her godfather, Remus Lupin. Now as she enters her fifth year at Hogwarts she is a-fronted by her peers and their outward fear of her presence.

Warnings: bullying, cussing, slow burn relationship, bullying, asshole teachers (Snape.)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: If y’all like this I’ll continue on with this :)

chapter one, chapter two

“Remus you can’t make me go to school this year. Everyone there already hates me, and now that dad is all over the Daily Prophet, it’ll all just be worse,” you made your case to your godfather for the hundredth time this summer since your father had broken out of Azkaban.

“Y/n, you have friends who will have your back,” Remus said, he felt terrible, and he knew you were right, but he also knew how important it was for you to be at Hogwarts. “I’ll be there, and Dumbledore and McGonagall will make sure nothing happens.”

“Gryffindor’s aren’t as nice as you think they are,” you retorted. “And I do not have friends, that’s a joke. Everyone despises me, even some of my bloody professors hate me,” you were particularly referencing Snape who’d had it out for you since your name had been called for sorting your first year.

“That’s impossible, of course, you have friends, what about the twins?” he asked, and you ignored him. It was true that you were close with Fred and George, but you felt that virtually everyone other than those two Weasley’s hated you.

“I’m glad you, dad, and Uncle James were just so popular when you went to school, and everyone just bloody loved you, but it isn’t the same for me,” you said, finally deciding you were done with the argument and storming upstairs, you knew that Remus wasn’t going to budge about his decision, but you’d put up as much of a stink as you could, and being that September 1st was only a week away you figured your case had failed.

Remus let you storm out, you were fifteen, and he understood that you were going through a lot. Not only were you a teenager and dealing with all of the joys of puberty, but you were the daughter of an assumed murderer, which couldn’t make school much fun. He could only imagine the ways your peers used that to torment you. He couldn’t forget the minuscule things James and Sirius would agonize Severus Snape over when they had been in school. On top of all that, twelve years ago, your father had left you on Remus’ doorstep with a note on your forehead that read:

‘Peter rated out James and Lily, I’m going to Godrics Hollow, if anything happens, take care of Y/n, she doesn’t have anyone else.’

He was right, your mother had died at the hands of Lucius Malfoy before your first birthday, and her parents had died long ago, Sirius didn’t want you anywhere near his parents, neither Sirius nor your mother had living siblings, and Remus was your only named Godparent. You grew up with both of your parents, and all of your family ripped away from you. You had been left only with good memories of the man the world was trying to tell you was evil and a note you had used as evidence of his innocence.

Despite everything, Remus didn’t mind having you around in the least, you were a carbon copy of your parents, just an absolute firecracker, and he loved you just as much as your parents had. While he anticipated his situation to be a problem it wasn’t, as whenever necessary, Molly Weasley would take you in for however long Remus needed. However, your third year, you took a page out of your father’s book, and while at school, you learned how to become an animagus on your own, so that when you returned home that summer, you were able to stay with your godfather though all of his sessions, and help. Remus found as you grew up that you took care of him as much as he took care of you, he was eternally grateful to have you in his life. Now, with everything going on in your life and all the trauma you had ensued, he couldn’t blame you for lashing out. He just wished he could be of more help.

You didn’t argue with Remus about going to school again, and on August 31st, you begrudgingly packed up your trunk in anticipation of your journey to Hogwarts. You and Remus lived in a house you had inherited from your mother in Burford, West Oxfordshire, it was far enough outside town to be safe for Remus, and it was protected with old magic as it had been in your family for centuries. Being that it’s only over an hour-long drive to London, Remus usually drove you to King’s Cross, but since he was going with you to Hogwarts this year, you both took an early train to London, arriving in perfect time to catch the Hogwarts Express.

When you boarded the train, you split ways with Remus as you were due in the prefect compartment so that you could do your rounds. Prefect duty was another thing you were dreading this year, you were sure that no one would be willing to listen to you considering your situation, and you genuinely had no clue why Professor McGonagall wanted you as a prefect anyways.

During your round, you found that your assumptions were correct, no one would listen to you, and you only found yourself getting angry every time you noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet with your father’s mugshot on the cover. He hadn’t aided in the murder of your Uncle James and Aunt Lily, he hadn’t a reason to, James had been his best friend. Not only that, but nobody knew half the story you and Remus knew, but of course, no one wanted to listen to you, and the only evidence you had was the note he had left on your forehead, which was, of course, deemed unreliable. You were sure Peter was out there somewhere, and you were optimistic that if you could find him, you would be able to clear your father’s name, but you had no clue where you could start.

You past by the compartment Harry, Ron, and Hermione frequented to find your godfather sleeping in the corner, that man did love his naps, although you were curious why they had chosen to sit in a compartment with a sleeping professor in it, but you brushed it off. The three had a knack for making odd decisions that never failed to land them into trouble of some sort.

You continued walking down the corridor, keeping to yourself, not finding anyone to be breaking any severe rules. You had decided that as a prefect, your policy would be that if it wasn’t happening in front of you, you wouldn’t report it. After experiencing Percy Weasley’s tyrannical rain, the last thing you wanted was to subject other students to such tyranny. You remained in your thoughts till you passed by Draco Malfoy’s compartment, where the door was wide open.

“Oi! Black!” You heard Malfoy yell as you approached his compartment. “Surprised, they let you come this year considering your murderer father is loose.”

You elected to ignore him and continue walking, biting back the insults you wanted so badly to throw back.

“Or I guess you’re nothing like your father, more the chicken type like your pathetic moth-”

You swung around, resisting the urge the pull your wand out and land a nasty jinx on the prick, “You’re one to speak Malfoy, considering your father is a cowardly murderer who hides behind money and lies. Now, if you want to lose another twenty points from Slytherin before we even arrive at Hogwarts, I suggest you keep running your mouth,” you said without breaking a sweat, silence from Malfoy and his posse following. “I thought so,” you said before continuing on your round.

You made it to the end of the train and turned around to do your final walkthrough you intended to stop into the section Remus was in and see if he had awoken. As you walked down the corridor, you noted the cold fog that rolled alongside the train, the ride to Hogwarts was rarely this cold. As you approached the compartment door, the train came to a screeching halt, and you were thrown up against the door, startling its occupants. You hurried to your feet and entered as Harry Potter opened the door.

“What’s going on?” Ron Weasley asked. You stood back against the door as the lights in the train flickered out.

“I know just as much as you do,” you said, trying your best to push aside any fear.

From his seat, Harry was giving you a weird look. Meanwhile, Ron pressed himself against the window that had begun frosting.

“Ouch, Ron, that was my foot,” Hermione complained.

Ron ignored his clumsiness, concerned with whatever he saw outside the train, “There’s something moving out there.”

With that, the lights turned on and then off again, the train rocking and ice encapsulating the carriage. No longer trusting your own legs, you rushed to take a seat on the bench Harry and Remus were on, though you kept your distance, still grimly aware of the rumours that had been flying around the train regarding your father. Although, your thoughts were stopped as the train halted again, and your breath turned to ice.

“Bloody hell! What’s happening?” Ron cried.

All of your heads turned to the carriage’s door as a lanky robed creature with a hand like that of a skeleton’s slowly eased opened the door. As it approached, you could feel nothing but true sadness echo through your body and mind. It was a coldness you felt would never leave you. The thing you recognized as a dementor entered, looming off of the ground and ignoring everything but you and Harry. The dementor paused as if unsure of which one of you was worth its time. Discerning what was happening and uncertain of what else to do, you rose to your feet to act as a barrier between Harry and the dementor. As a result of your action, and your misery now clear to the creature, it started to feed off of you. At some point, you saw a blast of bright light, but the second it and the dementor disappeared, your fainted, falling to the floor.

“Y/n, Harry?” you heard Hermione’s voice as your eyes flickered open. “Professor are they going to be alright?”

You rose to a seated position to find yourself lying on the floor, Harry on the bench above you, Ron crunched in his corner, a very concerned Hermione Granger hovering over you, and Remus ready with a bit of chocolate as always.

“Here, eat this, it’ll help,” he said as he offered you and Harry the chocolate which you graciously took.

“What was that thing that came?” Harry asked.

“It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban,” He explained to Harry before looking at you, “It’s gone now,” he assured before turning back to Harry to finish answering his question. “It was searching the train for Sirius Black.”

You swallowed your bite of the chocolate quite loudly, uncomfortable with the information at hand.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver,” Remus rose, leaving the chocolate bar with you. “Eat, you’ll feel better.” Remus assured Harry before leaving and heading to the front of the train.

You broke the chocolate bar in half and gave it to Harry, “It does help.”

“Harry fainted just after you did,” Hermione explained. You had quickly noticed before fainting that the dementor didn’t affect Ron or Hermione half as much as it had you and Harry.

“What exactly happened?” Harry asked as he took a bite of the chocolate.

“Well, after Y/n fainted, you went rigid, we thought you were having- well a fit or something,” Ron explained.

“Dementors feed on feelings of depression and despair,” you explained.

“Is that why-”

“You felt like you could never be happy again?” you finished Ron’s thought and nodded. “Exactly.”

“But someone was screaming,” Harry said, the memory alive in his eyes. “A woman.”

“No one was screaming, Harry,” said Hermione.

“I heard screaming too,” you said, looking over at him. A silence settled over the carriage once more, causing the reality of your parentage to come crashing over you yet again. You shakily rose to your feet, not exactly well just yet. “I should be going- prefect, duty- let me know if you need anything else.” And before anyone could protest, you were out of the compartment and walking back down the train corridor.

Before you could very much think about it, you entered Fred and George’s compartment, quite unsure of where else you might have been welcome.

“Y/n!” The twins chimed when you entered.

“Sit,” Fred started

“Yeah,” George said.

“We’ve got a question for you,” they finished together.

“A question, for me? Now, what would that be?” You asked as you squeezed onto the bench in between the two despite the empty one just across from you. Although, you assumed Lee Jordan had been sitting there and was just off to use the loo as his bag was up above that spot.

“We’ll show you, but you’ve got to promise us you won’t show anybody,” George said as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“Anybody,” Fred echoed.

“I won’t show anybody, promise,” You spoke in the same playfully serious tone as the twins while George placed a blank piece of folded parchment onto your lap.

Fred placed the tip of his wand onto the map but caught your eye and held eye contact with you as he said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” winking at you as he finished.

Before you maroon lines and lettering unfurled, curling onto the parchment.

‘The Marauders Map’

A smile found its way onto your face as you realized what was before you. Your eyes lighting up as they followed the script that started to write out names you recognized instantly.

‘Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs are proud to present,’

Your smile widened, you knew exactly what this was. Remus had told you plenty of stories of his and your fathers’ school antics, and the Marauders Map was often mentioned.

“Now, Black,” said George.

“That smile seems to say something,” said Fred.

“We’ve got a feeling,” they continued in unison. “That you know who created this masterpiece.”

You looked up at the two of them, your smile not at all lost. “What’s it to you?” you asked. Of course, you knew, but you loved messing around with them.

“Pure curiosity,” Fred smirked.

“Even if I do know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are, why should I tell you two?” You asked.

“Because you looove Fred,” George said, and you shot him a glare that easily could have killed him right where he sat. “Because we’re your favorite people at Hogwarts?” He said, quick to edit his sentence.

“Alright, but I want you to let me in on all of your pranks this year. Think about the benefits of having a prefect on your side,” you said, then smoothly leaning forward to allow the twins to deliberate in peace. They caught on in a matter of seconds.

“She’s not wrong,” started Fred, and he rested back against the seat.

“And she’s quite smart,” continued George, following his twin.

“And she has information we want.”

“And you do love her,” George teased his twin.

“And we can trust her,” Fred added in an attempt to ignore George’s jab at his long-standing crush.

“Alright then,” the twins said in harmony, and you all resumed your previous positions. “Who is it?” They asked you.

“Peter Pettigrew,” you started. “Remus Lupin, James Potter,” they breathed in, obviously not having expected to hear the name of Harry’s dad. “And Sirius Black.” You said, your chest swelling with pride.

“Your dad!” started Fred excitedly

“Was a marauder?” They asked at once, and you nodded.

“Well, that makes you pranking royalty,” George said and mocked a bow.

“I would say it does, now I am excited to be working with you two gentlemen this year.”

“We are honored to be in your presence, oh Queen of the Pranks,” Fred got off of his seat and turned to give you a proper bow, prompting another giggle from you, which you didn’t notice Fred blush bright red.

“Boys we have some work to do,” you said, offering your hand as you had seen Queens do before to Fred. He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it, this time causing a soft blush to rise to your cheeks.

Your train ride continued to be full of playful banter between the four of you, the boys full of questions about your dad’s time at Hogwarts, and you were excited to answer them as best you could. Although in the end, you couldn’t help but be entirely grateful that Fred and George hadn’t written you off along with the rest of the school, even more thankful that they hadn’t also written off your dad. When you arrived at the school, you shared a carriage with the twins, Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson, none of whom seemed bothered by your presence. It appeared for the moment that this year wouldn’t be too bad. You expected to resume your spot on the quidditch team as a chaser along with those before you, and the pranks you had already begun planning with the twins occupied your mind.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore caught the school’s attention as he assumed his place at the post at the top of the hall. “I have a few things to say before we become befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R. J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Good luck, you, Professor.”

At this, the twins turned their eyes from Dumbledore to you, clearly asking if that was the Lupin you had said to be Moony of the Marauders, to which you confirmed with one nod.

“Wicked,” they said in unison, and you winked at them.

“As some of you may know, Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!”

You, along with few others who knew and appreciated Hagrid, applauded at this news as Hagrid rose from his seat and jovially waved at the school, although he nearly toppled the staff table, sending goblets over the side of the table.

“Finally, on a more disquieting note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban. Now, whilst I’ve been assured until such a time as Sirius Black is captured.”

Whispers filled the Great Hall as you swallowed the nerves that rose in your throat as best you could

“Well we’ve got his daughter right over there. Why don’t we just give ’em her! She’s probably a murderer herself!” You heard a boy from the Slytherin table yell quite violently. His idea was supported by a few cheers from those around him and a girl who was sitting next to him following up.

“Yeah, how are we supposed to know she isn’t scheming to sneak in her murderous father to kill us all!” The girl yelled, and you could only feel yourself sinking into the bench as every Hogwarts student’s eyes were now on you.

“Oi! Pucey, watch it, or I’ll hex your ear off!” George quickly stood and yelled in your defense.

“That! Is quite enough!” Dumbledore boomed. “I will not have Miss Black questioned or judged for her being here. Anyone who wishes to contest this may bring it up directly with me.”

With that, Dumbledore continued on with his speech in particular regard to the presence of the dementors, but his words respecting you did nothing to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach. At this point, you were wondering why you hadn’t followed in your mum’s steps and gone to Beauxbatons.

“Are you alright?” Fred asked, noting the color that had drained from your face.

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

Fred could tell you weren’t fine, and why should you be? He could feel the hostile looks coming from every corner of the room, some even coming from the professor’s table. He wanted to help in any way he could, and he knew that the most he could do is have your back for the time being.

When Dumbledore finally called this year’s feast to an end, you rose to your feet as Percy had asked you and Robert Greene, the other fifth year Gryffindor prefect, to walk the first years back to the common room.

You rose to your feet, “Your darling brother has decided I’ll be escorting the first years back to the common room, so I’ll see you back there after?” You honestly did not want to be left alone tonight and was hoping to spend more time with the twins.

“We’ll find a good spot by the fire,” George said, and you smiled at him, grateful.

You left and rounded up the first years, some of whom had no clue who you were and some who were clearly afraid of you and clung to the front of the line where Percy and Robert were. But you brushed it off. It wasn’t half as bad as Pucey calling you a murderer in front of the entire school. The walk didn’t last long, and Percy capitalized the whole thing to flaunt his power over the eleven-year-olds allowing you to remain silent and with your thoughts. You split when you made it to the common room, sure that Percy was so wrapped up in his spiel that he wouldn’t miss you.

“Black!” George wailed. “We’ve missed you dearly.”

“How could you dare to leave us for so long?” Fred cried, and you giggled at their antics, sitting on the couch next to Fred.

“I’m very, incredibly, sorry for the time I have spent away but do know that you were each on my heart and in my thoughts the entire time we were apart,” you joined in, causing Fred to laugh, which brought a shade of pink to your cheeks, recently you found how his laugh made the butterflies in your stomach ruffle their wings.

“Anyone else wanna know why Dumbledore’s let a murderer’s daughter live in our dorm?” you heard Seamus Finnigan say loudly enough for the entire common room to hear. “It makes me feel unsafe I don’t know about you.”

“Yeah if he comes to Hogwarts, this’ll be the first place he comes.”

You sharply rose to your feet and turned to face Finnigan, “Actually you’re right Finnigan, I’ve been in contact with my dad, who has been in Azkaban my entire life, planning to come to a school and kill a bunch of children. I am so so bummed you’ve found out my plan. So everyone keeps an eye open while you’re sleeping. I might just appear over your bed in the middle of the night, ready to murder you.”

As you were speaking, Fred and George stood to defend you. Meanwhile, Seamus’s face fell white with fear at your words.

“Anyways aren’t you meant to be a Gryffindor, Finnigan, aren’t you meant to be brave? Because speaking behind people’s backs is about the most cowardly thing someone can do,” you said, anger rising in you. Although, you did not notice Professor McGonagall enter as you were talking.

“She deserves to be here just as much as the rest of you,” Fred boomed to the now silent common room.

“Good evening, everyone,” McGonagall cut in. “I was planning to come up tonight to ensure that Miss Black was being respected as a peer and as a prefect although that clearly hasn’t happened,” she said, shooting a look at Seamus Finnigan. “As she just said, it is expected that you as Gryffindors conduct yourselves with bravery and with understanding for your peers. Should any of you feel that you do not have to listen to or that you are above Y/n because of her parentage, you can come to me for a detention. I will not permit any intolerance of her presence. Is that understood?”

A few people started slowly nodding, causing the rest of your housemates to nod in understanding of what Professor McGonagall had to say.

“Good, now I will be taking ten points from our house for Mr. Finnigan’s comments,” a groan fell over the room, “You shall also be meeting me for detention in my office tomorrow night at seven. However, ten points to Miss Black and ten points to Mr. Weasley for standing up for oneself and for one’s friends.” With that, Professor McGonagall left, leaving the Gryffindors in silence.

“Go about your nights,” Percy called to the house, and everyone dispersed, although you heard the drama start to circulate, no matter what McGonagall said, you knew that you would never escape the judgement of your peers.

“Merlin, and classes haven’t even started yet,” you huffed as you collapsed back onto the couch next to Fred.

“We’ve got your back, Y/n,” Fred said as he put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Promise,” you implored.

“Promise,” he assured.

chapter two

#Sirius Black's daughter #au #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #harry potter au #daughter of the dog

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assemble-revengers · 3 years

Text

Nexus Split

**Contains spoilers for Loki**

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2203

Prompt: “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

Author’s Note: I woke up and chose violence today.

Time was hard to grasp before this whole mess began, but it at least had some structure regardless of how ethereal it seemed. There was structure and a time and place and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time so it seemed when you also made a move to snatch up the Tesseract the second you saw Loki move in New York. That’s how you got into this mess and honestly there were many things you had regretted initially. For instance, why couldn’t you have minded your own business?

Well, if you had you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to meet Loki, and at the moment? That felt worth more than anything. It hadn’t started that way -- the two of you were practically at each other’s throats and when you weren’t bickering between each other you were being confused by the politics of the TVA and time in general.

In a wild turn of events you became an unpaid intern all over again. You supposed it was better than dying or “being pruned”. You still were confused as ever by the lingo and even though you had tried your best to pay attention to the onboarding process, but frankly you were still wrapping your head around the prospect of the TVA in general. How had no one even considered this being a possibility? Where did these people come from? It seemed that it just...was? But if that was the case, why was there an onboarding process?

Miss Minutes was terrifying -- she was just so...eerie and popped up randomly and honestly you just wanted a nap. Or to wake up from this bizarre dream.

The worst part was the notion of running into other variants, namely the fact that a variant that had been targeting members of the TVA happened to be a Loki-variant.

“Wonderful,” you retorted, interrupting Mobius with disdain, “There’s another one of him.”

The aforementioned god was sitting across a table from you and you weren’t entirely sure how he was taking the whole thing. According to him, the tesseract was useless here. A paper weight. Another beyond weird thing that the TVA brought.

“We should team up,” a voice interrupted your spacing out and it took you a moment to realize that the voice belonged to Loki. And he was talking to you.

You blinked a few times incredulously, “You have been nothing but cruel to me since we met. Why would I ever help you?” Honestly, the audacity of men.

“I am sorry about that, by the way,” he answered, “I was going through something.”

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out, covering your mouth immediately to try to mute the sound and avoid any more attention. “Aw, that makes it all better.”

There was no reason to hide your sarcasm, and he knew that. You could tell from the way he blanched for a moment before resuming his composure, obviously trying to turn on some godly charm or something onto you, “I was. I truly am sorry.”

“Loki, you stole the Tesseract, tried to take over the world and brought a bunch of crazy alien things into New York City,” you listed, counting off the things on your fingers, “And now because you went after the stupid Tesseract again, with a room full of Avengers I might add, I cannot return to my life which wasn’t that impressive, but at this moment? I kind of miss it. So, no, I don’t accept your apology.” He was silent after that and you went back to your mind palace spiraling about the logistics of what was happening to you.

It was not a great day for you. Week? Hour? Time was weird. It was even more weird when you were suddenly having to do research into the Loki-variant-assassin. Going through files and files of different instances in time was tedious. It was interesting in that some of the things had already happened, were going to happen, and were happening in places you had never even heard of. It was during this that you and Loki had begun to work more collaboratively.

In fact, the moment you guys had made the connection that it was apocalypses? You taught the god of mischief the importance of a high five. Or rather, never leaving someone hanging because you chased him down, yelling at him until he returned the high five before you even allowed him to present your findings to Mobius. The bond continued when you both were treated like unhinged criminals or starved, ravenous animals by pretty much everyone other than Mobius who was...friendly as ever.

You did not have a lot of options in terms of trust. While Mobius seemed genuine, there was no way you could possibly know. The issue was that the only thing that was any level of normal in your eyes was Loki which was...laughable, but he was from your timeline. The two of you were in this together sort of because at this point you wanted to go home and it seemed he did too after the whole semantics of this whole thing. Or maybe he wanted to take over the TVA. Regardless, it gave you some hope that he might be kind and put you into your timeline where you belong.

The feelings came out of nowhere. In fact, you hadn’t even realized it happened until there was a chance for you both to chase after the Loki-variant (or Sylvie as you would learn later) and before Loki went through the portal, he reached a hand out for you, Mobius yelling and you found your feet moving on their own accord, turning to mouth ‘Sorry’ to Mobius before grabbing Loki’s hand and rushing through the portal.

Sylvie was interesting and endearing and was someone you instantly found yourself drawn to. You felt sympathetic to her story, and maybe that was dangerous. Dangerous, but gave you another sliver of hope despite the fact things were bleak. Very bleak. Being on Lamentis-1 about to explode and everyone die bleak. Despite this, the two of you sat and chatted in your booth at the bar while Loki got absolutely hammered and even began to softly serenade you in what you assumed was Asgardian (this was after he sung to the whole room) and you found yourself pulling him back down to the chairs and pulling him into a hug while you laughed.

“Loki, I have no idea what you’re saying,” you giggled, pulling away from him, “But I think you’ve had enough.”

“Darling, I think I’m just getting started,” he answered with the smoothness of butter on a hot pancake. You couldn’t help the burning of your ears and the rest of the blush that began to dance across your features. Sylvie coughed. Moment interrupted (Thankfully? You don’t know). Back to the business of the world ending and no way out. Maybe that’s what let all of you decide to unload tales of the past. Yours was boring and...uneventful comparatively which led you to remain relatively quiet as both Loki and Sylvie talked.

Hearing all of Sylvie’s plight and what brought her to that moment had both you and Loki feeling empathetic. You felt anger that this whole this was allowed and deemed ‘okay’ by the TVA. An entity that really had no checks and balances as far as you could see. You pretended to ignore Sylvie and Loki bonding. You felt your stomach tighten. Envy was ugly and green really was never your color.

But that triggered the TVA rolling up and taking the three of you back. You weren’t sure what you were expecting. You weren’t expecting yourself to start fighting. Your restraints, the situation, the fact you were separated from Sylvie and more importantly Loki. You were utterly alone in your cell, screaming for them to let you out. The person interrogating you entered, tried asking you questions that you just couldn’t hear. Your head was swimming and it was almost as if you were hearing things like you were underwater. Fight or flight and apparently your entire being chose to fight.

Per someone’s orders you were moved, you lit up the moment you saw Loki and soon you were joined by Sylvie. Your restraints were removed and your eyes began watering as you rushed to Loki’s side, grabbing his hand as he gave yours a reassuring squeeze, moving so that he was shielding you from the front. The next thing you knew and before you had a moment to process, Mobius was pruned in front of you and Loki moved to shield you further.

Surprisingly, you were not entirely useless in the fight that ensued, but couldn’t help but feel entirely out of your element. The closest you had ever been to being in a fight in the past was when you were five and some girl stole your crayons and had the nerve to try to eat them.

Your adrenaline was pumping when you turned to Loki a feeling like being shocked by a plug while also being burned by a pan that had been on the stove. You were confused, Loki was yelling something. You couldn’t hear. You reach for him, desperate to calm him down or maybe it was because you subconsciously knew what was happening and you were terrified. The hot, electric feeling spread across your body before what felt like you were dropped in ice cold water and suddenly...your eyes blinked awake. You weren’t at the TVA.

Instead, you found yourself on the run (you hated yourself for missing out on all that gym time because your cardio could use some work) from a cloud that ate things. You would learn that you were in The Void, the evil vacuum of the cloud was called Alioth, and that there were even more Loki variants. One was an alligator. He was your favorite.

Your Loki also turned up and you practically threw yourself into his arms in relief, “I thought I lost you, you idiot.”

“I could say the same to you, pet,” he responded, murmuring into the crook of your shoulder. Reunions had to be cut short after you introduced the other variants, (“And this Loki is an alligator! How cool is that! He’s my favorite of all of you, no offense.”) and now you were seeking shelter to hide from Alioth and...well survive you supposed.

President Loki and the other Lokis were...a lot. In fact, there were so many Lokis that you were beginning to get a tension headache trying to keep up with everything that was going on. Some of them seemed to recognize you, including President Loki that informed you that you were late and with the wrong people (“No? I don’t even know who you are?” “You will.”)

Reuniting with Sylvie and Mobius brought even more relief. Sylvie seemed to think she could enchant the Alioth. You protested quite a bit before she was able to convince you otherwise. There was a way out. You had a chance to go back to the TVA and sort things with Mobius. Maybe go back to where you belong. Maybe stay. You weren’t sure, but it seemed Loki, your-Loki was hesitating.

Mobius was opening the portal behind you to the TVA. You stood with your hand firmly within Loki’s, fingers interlaced as you bid Sylvie a small, quiet ‘good luck, you’ve got this’. You and Loki were right by the portal, a sliver from stepping in before Loki stops, pulling you so that you two were facing each other, your back to the portal.

“What’s wrong?” you ask concerned.

“I’m staying,” Loki affirms, “To help Sylvie, to...do this.”

“Okay,” you lament. You were staying too. You tried to move to leave the portal Loki gave Mobius a heartfelt hug, which ended up being a group hug since Loki wouldn’t let go of you. In fact, as soon as Mobius was released from the hug, you were engulfed into Loki’s arms where you practically melted. The hug ended far too soon, but Loki didn’t release you, holding your face in his hands as he pressed his forehead to yours. It made your heart warm and peace washed over you.

“Loki…” you sigh, feeling an entire lifetime of emotions flooding your system, “I…”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, “I know. I feel the same...but I can’t bear to hear it.”

“Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?” You inquire, voice cracking. You felt frozen in place as panic began to bubble up under your skin.

“Because you’re not staying with me,” he murmurs weakly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N. Remember that, please.”

Before you could respond, you were shoved by a great force. You couldn’t even react as your grip was easily broken, your sense of balance knocked out from under you. Mobius had already stepped through the portal...surely it wasn’t still up? You landed on the ground, having been knocked off your feet, but you were no longer in the void.

You felt your heart shattering. You couldn’t even cry. He was gone.

#loki x you #mcu loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #mcu x you #mcu imagine #mcu x reader

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morgansmoreid · 3 years

Text

Do You Still Love Me • Derek Morgan • Chapter Nine

Chapter Name: " Reasonable"

Fic Masterlist

Italic writing stands for flashbacks.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Parental Abuse, Drugs Mention, Homophobia

Bold Writing stands for what happened at the station while Y/n was not present

---

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

Four.

Y/n's feet clacked against the concrete floor.

Rubbing the palm of her hand against the outline of the pills, Y/n moved along the cars as she slowly walked to the station, this time her mind as empty as an open field.

The station was in her view quicker than anticipated. She pulled open the front door, the bell above it causing everyone who was in ear's views to turn their heads. Scanning each face carefully, relief swayed through Y/n as no face was anyone she dreaded to talk to.

Her relief was cut short as Aaron walked down the hall to her left with the team, her father, and James.

"That was all we needed to know," She heard him say as Aaron shook her father's hand.

James was the first to see her, alerting the rest of the people surrounding him by clearing his throat. Y/n made eye contact with James, her breaking first as her eyes fell to her feet. Thoughts of turning around and sprinting on her heels again popped in Y/n's head, but she ignored them and just looked to the floor.

"Y/n Y/L/N-Fields, please come with us." Emily moved from the center of the group and to Y/n, reaching out her hand to lead Y/n the way of the interrogation room. Y/n took it, keeping her head down as they walked past the group, eyes burning through her back as the pills in her pocket scream her name.

Emily opens the door and lets Y/n take a seat before heading outside again. Everyone is looking at the young female through the one-sided window, their eyes still leaving the same burning gaping hole.

Aaron and David come in, both faces stoic and tense. In hand, Aaron has a yellow pad and a pee cup while David has a blood test. Y/n's eyes grow wide at the objects placed in front of her before she sits up straight and lays her hands on the table.

"You aren't drug testing me." She says, her tone assertive but calm.

"But we are," David replies, looking over to Aaron.

"You understand that this is a federal investigation now? If you comply, these samples will not go on record but will be used for further inference. If you don't, they will go on your job record and you will be on leave effective immediately." Aaron threatened, leaving Y/n no choice.

"I'm clean." She mumbled as she rolled her sleeve for the blood test. Even if she wasn't, it wouldn't show for another 2 days, so it would be negative anyway.

Aaron said nothing as he opened the blood kit and wiped Y/n's inner arm with a sanitary wipe. Y/n winced at the needle entering her arm, the pain lasting as blood filled four tubes. Placing a bandaid on her arm, Aaron disposed of the needle in a different bag before opening the door and handing it to a hand outside.

Y/n may have not seen the person who took the bag, but she saw Derek. He was leaning against the wall across from the door, arms crossed. They made eye contact, this time neither one breaking it, just before the door closed.

"Do you need water?" David's voice pulled Y/n out of her thoughts.

Yes. Her throat was dry and scratchy.

Yes. Water would go well with the pills in her pocket.

"No thank you," Y/n looks up to David. He gives her the look of pity and sorrow and she feels herself hanging on by a thread.

"Come with me then," David holds the look as he turns around, cup in hand, and opens the door for Y/n.

Walking out, Y/n and David turn to the right from the small room while the team and others are on the left. David stands outside of the unisex bathroom as Y/n pees in the given cup. Washing her hands, Y/n stares at herself in the mirror.

Her eyes are red and her arm is now in pain. She feels like she's in one of those bad teenage romcoms, where the main character fucks up her life and in the end, it gets better. She's just waiting for her cue.

The silence lasts in the bathroom as Y/n bags her cup and places it on the small window ledge. She could run right now if she wanted to, but it wouldn't be worth it. Y/n turns on the bathroom faucet again and pulls out the baggie of pills from her pocket. 7 white tablets look at her as she takes one into her hand and shoves the rest back into hiding.

Just before she could bring her hand to her mouth and consume the evil, little miraculous wonder, David knocked on the door causing her to drop the pill in fright. Right into a puddle of "water," the pill went as Y/n hissed at the closed brown door.

"Fuck!" Her words echoed in the small room.

"Y/n? Is everything ok in there?" David's voice is muffled on the other side.

Instead of answering him, Y/n grabs the cup and pushes open the door, slamming the cup into the elder's hand and walking back into the integration room. She passes everyone, this time not bothering to even acknowledge Derek's presence, or his attempt to talk to her.

She slacks down in her seat and waits for the next person to walk through the door. It's Aaron again, with Penelope's laptop and a tape recorder in hand as he carries a file in his armpit.

"Before we start, shall I address you as Fields or Y/L/N?" Aaron precautions.

"Y/L/N, and only Y/L/N," Y/n says, voice cold as ice.

"Ok then, for the record, can you please state your full name, your age, and the year?" The first question leaves Aaron's lips.

"My name is Y/n Y/L/N, I am 29, and it's the year 2008."

Hotch scribbles Y/n's words down and opens the laptop. When he turns it to her, it's already open to a cheer photo from Y/n's sophomore year of high school.

"Please state who you recognize in this photo." Aaron opens the file that was once under his arm.

Eyes read the screen multiple times as the memories resurface in Y/n's head and the names leave her mouth.

"Sabrina Chains, Joanna McCarter, Daisy Miller, Rose Henry, Arianna Anderson, Megan Smith, Daniela Choi, Christina Middleton, and Catarina Paredes."

It's not in order, Sabrina is actually next to Daisy and Joanna is standing next to Daniela, but when Y/n recognized the face, she said the name.

"And who is this?" Aaron hits the right arrow key to move to the next slide. Y/n is horrified by what she sees. It's not another group picture or even a single picture of one of the women, it's a crime scene photo.

It's Arianna's crime scene photo, the only crime Y/n wasn't surrounded by the group for. The hotel room is way messier than others, the behavior completely changed from the last 3. Blood is everywhere, money and jewelry are splattered across the floor and there are no numbers on top of the body or anywhere for that matter. If the other kills weren't personal, this was. Arianna was killed by someone in rage and mixed emotion.

Just how Y/n left the team.

She can only look at the gruesome crime scene for so long until she reaches for the hood of the laptop to shut it off. Aaron is quicker and pulls it out of her sight as he switches to another picture of the crime scene, this time the bathroom.

Two looks and Y/n is ready to throw up. She trained for this, she worked her ass off for the last 5 years on how to keep her composure, yet, she's failing to keep herself together. The bathroom is a mess, clothes are ripped and makeup is smeared on walls, this unsub lost control or this is a new killer. Either way, it's not Y/n and there is no way that the team can possibly deem her that low.

"Please turn it off." Her voice is tense and demanding.

Aaron does shut the laptop and turns it to him. He takes a minute to write down his observations and proceeds with the integration further.

"When you left the Police Station, you were gone for 2 hours and 13 minutes, where did you go?" He asks, writing down the question as he says it.

"James, where is she?" David asks, handing Spencer a miniature Newton's cradle to calm him down.

Everyone looks at James for an answer. After Y/F/N was questioned, he and James were separated for the sake of the case. James was working on a different case file, wrapping it up on the end of the conference table while the team focused on Y/n.

"I'm not positively sure," James lied, rubbing the back of his neck as his handwriting started to get sloppy against the manila folder and its contents inside.

"Well, where do you think?" Derek spoke, his tone snappy and agitated.

After Y/F/N gave up his truth about Y/n's past and her drug problems, Derek was also questioned, not officially, just about how much he knew and what he wasn't letting on. Derek was honest with Hotch and the team, telling them he had no idea about Y/n's problem. Yes, it was true sometimes it intrigued him when they had date night and she never drank anything besides sparkling water, but when she blamed it on "past issues," he assumed it ran in the family.

He assumed because he trusted her.

And she broke that.

"Michael? The guy that Chief Fields couldn't stand? He lived right over here." James gets up and points to the computer screen. Y/n's last coordinates were still up so he dragged his pen across the screen, measuring out the distance for the team as he landed on the only colorful house in satellite view.

"I thought Michael was who introduced her into the drugs in the first place?" Aaron walks over to James.

"It's not really his fault, I've always told Y/n that she could've said no," James responds, becoming silent from everyone's glare at him.

"Saying no isn't easy," Derek mumbles, so low, no one heard him.

No one could say anything as another policeman came into the room frantically about a new body.

Y/n had only been gone 34 minutes at most. There was no way it could be her so quickly, but that didn't stop everyone's thoughts from going to the deep end.

As the team flies into the SUVs, Aaron orders Penelope to keep watch on Y/n's coordinates and dig very thoroughly of the lives of the 9 women, 5 now potential victims.

"Someone has it out for these women, and I wouldn't put it past that Y/n is the glue." He said, tightening his holster.

"I just walked around, took time to clear my head." Y/n lied.

Everyone knew where she was, but Aaron didn't call her out on her false truth and asked the next question.

"When was the last time you purchased any narcotics of the sort, Opioids, Cannabinoids, Hallucinogens, and or Stimulants?" Aaron asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer himself.

"Last time I was in town, 5 years ago." Y/n lies again.

This time, half of the team is unsure if it's true. James knows deep down it's a lie, but the rest of them don't want to believe it.

So Aaron doesn't push.

"And the last time you consumed any of the narcotics listed before?"

This question, everyone wants the truth, everyone is determined to figure out if they let another team member sink into their addiction before their eyes or if Y/n truly did put her life here behind her.

"As I said, last time I was in town, 5 years ago," Y/n says, her tone changing. It speaks of truth, which tells everyone, even her father that she lied about the last time she bought drugs and where she was, but they don't care about that at this moment.

All they care about is her sobriety, they were still her family after all.

Aaron smiles internally as he writes Y/n's answer on the yellow pad, then ripping the sheet off and sliding it underneath the cardboard. When he does this, the next yellow sheet visible is not blank, it's all of Y/F/N's previous questions. The horrible lights make it hard to see all of them but it still shines bright on the first one.

"What was discipline like as Y/n grew up?" Aaron asks his first question.

The question throws Y/F/N off guard. That had nothing to do with the investigation, what did the FBI want to know about his parenting?

"I believe you were asked a question," David says beside Aaron, arms crossed.

"This has to do what with the investigation?" Y/F/N asked, finally understanding the concept of what he was being asked.

"Agent Hotchner, are you implying that I abused my daughter?" He accused, now not feeling so compliant.

"I didn't say anything to imply, did I, Agent Rossi?" Aaron says loud and clear, bringing the tape recorder to him.

"Not at all, but I think you should repeat it, someone seems confused," Rossi taunted.

"Y/F/N Fields, what was discipline like as Y/n, your daughter grew up?" Aaron demanded an answer.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N said.

"Reasonable how?" Rossi pressed.

"If needed, I taught my daughter wrong from right," Y/F/N replied confidently.

"Did you at any given point in time, use your power as a parent to hit Y/n as a punishment?" Aaron asked bluntly. He hated abusers, it was something about finding pain and taking it out on others that he just could never understand.

"I did. But like I said when it was reasonable." His mouth forms into an undeniable smirk.

Y/F/N's hand went across Y/n's face.

"I said I was sorry!" The girl cried, she was only trying to show her dad an A+ she got.

"You're always sorry, there was no reason for you to knock that down." The angry male pointed to the empty cup on the floor.

Out of excitement, Y/n's elbow hit the plastic cup and knocked it down, but she was backed into the wall before she could pick it up, dropping her graded test midway.

"Reasonable," Y/F/N mumbled to himself.

Anger filled Y/n as her eyes went over the word reasonable.

Never once was Y/F/N reasonable.

Never.

Clenching her fists, Y/n sits up straight and zones back into her conversation with Aaron.

"Can you ask it again?" She says, making straight eye contact.

"Your relations to Daniela Choi?" Aaron asks.

Y/n doesn't know how to reply, she knows Derek is watching so she has to careful with her answer.

"I was-," She gathers her thoughts. "We were pretty close."

It's not a lie. They were close, extremely.

"Who would you say Y/n was closest to?" Aaron asks James.

The team started the investigation from the very beginning, so now everyone was a suspect.

"I've got a funny feeling about that dude, Hotch," Derek says, but his judgment is clouded, he's angry and hurt so to make him feel better, Aaron took James in for questioning.

"Daniela." James's answer is short.

"Why?"

"They dated, for a long time, blew up our whole group," James explains.

"What group?" Aaron flies through the files that he brought in.

Instead of answering, James takes out a picture.

"He's prepared." JJ points out.

The picture is a cheer team, James is nowhere to be found but the first person to catch Aaron's eye is the babyface of Y/n, she in middle, engulfed in a hug by a female with curly mixed hair- Arianna he later finds out. He wants to question why James has this but James continues to talk.

"Not everyone was supportive."

"What?" Rose asked.

"I'm dating Y/n," Daniela said slowly, it was time the two told their friends, the thought of banishment slipping their minds.

"You and Y/n? But your both girls!" Rose exclaimed, as the pastor's daughter, she was raised to what she thought was right.

"So? My mom said it doesn't matter and we both know Y/F/N won't bat an eye." Daniela spoke for both her and Y/n.

"Guys! Help me out here, tell them it's wrong." Rose looked around the booth, empty cups filled the large table as her high pitch voice filled the empty diner.

"How is it wrong?" Caterina scoffed, she could never have the courage to do what Danny and Y/n are doing but she'll stand by them no matter what.

"The bible-" Rose protests.

"For the last time, not all of us live by the damn bible!" James slammed his hand on the teal table before them.

Everyone loved each other, no one cared for anyone's flaws, like Rose's, who always ignored everyone when they try to tell her they don't want to hear bible quotes, or Y/n who always inserts herself into drama.

They were each other's little family and until now nothing has torn them apart.

"I refuse to be around them and their sins," Rose shoved her finger into Y/n's, finally the young girl to stand up.

"And we refuse to be around you." Y/n's tone is cold and tense.

"We all do." Arianna stood up.

"Christina?" Rose looked at the oldest for help.

"You heard them, you can't hate one without hating all of us." She said.

Christina's word was final. If she said someone was out, they were out, no discussion. She just had to say the words.

"Rose, are you staying or leaving?" She asked.

"I'm leaving, my dignity lasts." Rose proudly held her head high.

"Bye then. You longer are allowed to hang out with us." Christina said with much more pride.

The 10 at the table watched the first walk away.

"Not everyone agreed." James rephrased his sentence, fists clenching in anger.

As James told Aaron how the day that Rose left the group went, his fingers dug deeper into his hand, and when he finally let go, crescent marks left their place.

"When you say close, what do you mean?" Aaron wants to hear from Y/n, James is not trustworthy enough right now.

"I had a relationship with Daniela," Y/n admits.

Hearing the words makes Derek turn on his heels and leave the group in the hall. He needs air, he needs to be away from Y/n right now. He told her he was sorry about her friend and she just went with it, in his eyes, she lied to him.

She did the one thing that he always asked not to.

"Derek?" Spencer's voice called from behind him.

"Not now," Derek says, but it's more of a plead. He doesn't want to take his anger out on someone who doesn't deserve it, he wants to take his anger out on Y/n.

Spencer leaves him alone and Derek takes a few minutes to himself. When he heads back to the station, he refuses to join back with the group, he heads back to the table in the conference room and starts working, the way his handwriting fills each paper and picture easing his mind.

As the minutes feel like hours, Y/n's interview is finally done and she feels bare. She hates how much she revealed, she hates how much has been stripped, how her walls came down and she had no say.

She hates most of her answers were lies that found their way into her truth.

But she won't tell them that, they don't need to know.

They don't get to know.

Aaron lets Y/n head to the hotel first, but when she steps outside, it's dark. Her phone is dead and her body is tired, yet her feet take her to the hotel doors, they let her step into the elevator and into her room. Her hands ache but they plug her phone in and they pull her shirt off. Her hands ache but they turn the knobs of the shower and unbutton her pants. Her legs hurt but they step out of the jeans and help her feet kick them to the side. Her body is a temple of pain but as she removes her bra and underwear, as she steps in the shower, as her fingers run over her body and squeeze the soap out of her cloth out, letting it slide down her figure, she finds her self sitting in the middle of her bed, the air silent where she finally lets her self cry.

So many years of bottling up feeling, so many years of trauma, and it took 34 questions to strip her of who she was. Every single question she counted, every single time she felt betrayed, she counted, her life was out there to know, memories she hid taunt her.

A knock on her door pulls her out of her thoughts.

When she gets up, she takes notice of the black shirt she was wearing 24 hours ago. The feeling of Derek's hand run up and down her body in chills as she walks closer to the door.

24 hours ago everything was peaceful.

Now it's a shithole.

Cracking open the door, Y/n is surprised, to say the least. Both people are silent as she opens the door more and lets the person step in.

"Derek-" She tries.

"No. You don't get to talk. It's your turn to listen." He says, meaning every fucking word.

#derek morgan #derek morgan fic #Chocolate Thunder #derek morgan x reader #bau x reader #reader insert #mjmoreid #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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i-need-air · 3 years

Note

Hello I really like your hybrid au especially with kirishima

I was wondering if I can request one with kirishima hybrid where reader gets kidnapped because someone from the old ring wants revenge and kirishima is looking for them

Wow, I took some time with this because it was hard to place Kiri in such a situation. I hope I gave it justice. This is not my usual fluff since it's a darker theme, so yeah. Hope it was worth the wait though! Enjoy and tell me if you liked it!! 💕💕

Word count: 4k [ I... I got carried away... and I still feel it's short 💀 ]

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, mentions of abuse, guns, Kiri's past being f'd up, insults [?], hint towards assault;

[ Masterlist ] [ Main Hybrid!Kirishima HCs ]

× this man is all about safety

× asks you to send him a message whenever you arrive safely at home or wherever you're going

× it's super-sweet and really helpful; your well being is everything to him after all

× yet one evening you didn't arrive on time

× no message, nothing

× he was waiting and paying attention to time since he wanted to suggest going out to watch a movie, but you didn't arrive

× one hour later he finds himself frowning at the clock, tapping his foot in wonder

× he sent you a message; the fact that it send but you didn't receive it unsettled him more, to which he decided to call— "The phone you're trying to reach is disconnected or no longer in service."

× did you run out of battery? was that even possible?

× what seals the deal is a DM he receives from a throwaway account on social media he was so active and known on.

× "We've got your little toy. You know where to find us, Red Riot. Come alone or they die." and attached was a pictute of you, on the floor, possibly unconscious, hands tied behind your back.

× a collar was placed by your side; he knew what it was.

× his blood ran cold, a freezing shiver electrified through his spine as he jumped out of the couch, terrorized and more importantly raging mad

× Red Riot: a name he tried to forget; a name people shouted at him in praise as they put bets on his head; a name he's been given as he fought friends and foes; a name that brought back pain and suffering. A name he didn't want to taint his new life with.

× he did not take any time to leave the house in a hurry, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

× Kirishima didn't know where his friends were, so he found himself on his own, outside your apartment complex, taking a deep breath in; he could find you; he had to find you even if it was the last thing he did, yet he had to do it alone.

× he spotted your car in the parking lot— in a blink he was by it's side, just spotting your belongings inside and the car-keys still in

× uncontrollable rage took over him as he still sniffed your scent in the air.

× you've been here and because of him, now you weren't; you're gone; you've been attacked too, the window smashed and blood running down the door

× he sniffed again, noticing how it wasn't your blood— relief didn't come since he did recognize the other scent; his dealer.

× "You fucking mutt!" he growled above the red-haired man chained to the wall, fist closed readied to make impact.

× Kirishima growled lowly, remembering.

× "You fucking made me lose ten fucking grands because you didn't want to finish that fucking beast!" his screams could be heard throughout the hallways.

× He got inside the car.

× "You and your fucking group, you think you're too good to fucking follow MY ORDERS—" a crack could be heard as the punch collided with the hybrid's jaw, yet it did little to no damage to him. Curses followed, making the man almost chuckle, yet chose not to, knowing the damage it would bring. "YOU PATHETIC PIECE OF— I FUCKING BROKE MY HAND, SHIT!" he yanked him by the hair with his other hand, pulling hard. "I'm gonna make you regret the day you were born." And if it weren't for his improvised family, Kirishima would've been regretting that day anyway without his assistance.

× He sped off, fingers whitening on the steering wheel because of his harsh grip. Tears now ran freely on his cheeks with no conscious attempt made to be stopped.

× Only two places haven't been raided by the Hybrid Protection Services came to mind, deemed as abandoned yet for those that knew the insides, the buildings were definitely used mostly as hideouts and for special occasions

× few escaped from being detained by the police, yet word came to him that the bastard, Mawler as he liked to call himself, was caught; it didn't seem to be the case and as he drove, Kirishima could only think he'd make the fucker regret the day he was born; a bitter laugh left his lips, hating himself for a moment. Although the image of a friend came in his mind, imagining him slapping his back in a poor attempt to motivate him. That's what he would say too.

× the self-hatred washed off; for you he'd do anything.

× he rushed to the first location; it used to be a club with an underground arena, in which he himself fought in countless times

× his neck itched as he gritted his teeth; the memory of the electric collar they had to have on while almost killing each other made him want to vomit

× a deep growl left his frame; gutural, dark, menacing; they wanted the Red Riot? it seems they forgot where he really got that name from;

× he only saw blood on the way there.

× he parked not too far but tried to keep a low profile although his big frame didn't help in a stealth situation. Kirishima knew he's in for trouble, but what else could he do?

× —

× you blinked, blinded by the light that shined harshly in your face

× "Would you look at that, fellas? Guess who's wakin' up?" you had no time to panic, just flashes of the quick encounter just by your house appearing in your mind as a boot collided with your stomach, making you wince in pain

× What was going on? What the hell happened?

× "Aww, don't make that face..." someone mocked. "Save it for when Red Riot comes along, baby." he whispered harshly at you, venom in his voice.

× you muttered "—Riot?" in daze, placing your knees as close to your chest for protection; your head hurt badly, a throbbing pain coming from the back of it.

× laughed echoed around you; "He didn't fucking tell you? How much of a fucking BEAST he was?!"; other voices joined in... two more voices, but you couldn't be sure

× memories came back at you; how you were arriving late but decided to not send any message since you were driving; parking, gathering your stuff, the sound of crystal breaking—

× but nothing else;

× "You don't fucking know what your piece of shit of a mutt even did before acting like a perfect little boyfriend, didn't ya?" the same venom filled voice came closer to you, giving you the chance to finally see his ugly scowl and to imprint his stupidly face in your mind;

× were they talking about Kirishima? Your Kirishima? He never really got into detail about his previous life yet made it clear he was forced to fight for the entertainment of others— did they fucking think he had a choice?

× yet you remained silent; it seems Kiri knew you'd be there and your concussion didn't really help you to think straight and form any plan;

× something could be heard outside, a crash of some sort and everyone stood still for a good second.

× "He—... He's here already?" one of them whispered. A clicking made you freeze. You snapped your head up in terror, only knowing that sound from movies, a sound so scary you really didn't think you'd hear it in real life; guns.

× "I fucking send that message 20 minutes ago..." Ugly Scowl said, taken back in surprise. His eyes, dark and void of goodness snapped on you, an unsure smile painting over him. "I wanted to have some fun with ya."

× your body couldn't control the shiver that ran through it, from head to toes, and he noticed, turning his uncertain smile into a sadistic one; your face was probably a dead giveaway too.

× but Eijirou was there and deep down you knew there was nothing to fear; except for the guns.

× the red-head wasn't dumb, he knew this world a million times better than you, so he must've known; with a flood of nervousness piling up in your stomach, you blinked the stinging feeling in your eyes away and hoped for the best.

× "Go check that fucking sound, retards!" he then screamed, two sets of footsteps rushing at his orders; it seemed he was the "boss" of whatever the hell this small group of pieces of shit was and hated your boyfriend's guts.

× should you talk? should you not? what's the best possible outcome out of this?

× your wrists stung, locked harshly with what felt like a rope; in a poor attempt to move your fingers to feel if you could, in an ideal world, free your hands, the man caught your movements instantly; he yanked you by the neck, lifting you off the ground with no difficulty and that's when you noticed he was strong, muscular, big; his frame wasn't as massive as Eijirou's by any chance but massive enough to make you reconsider any attempt to escape. "Don't even fucking think about it, dear."

× his breath, foul and heavy, hit your face and you almost gagged; he was watching you, observing your face in search of something. Through a nod he hummed at himself.

× "Not bad, Riot." his nose hit your cheek as he breathed you in and a whimper left you, guts screaming danger; he snickered. "It's okay, I like them when they cry." he mocked your tears in a heavy whisper, which you didn't notice until he pointed them out.

× a snap could be heard from inside the building, possibly on the floor above; were you underground?

× the disgusting man by your side lifted himself up, throwing you on the floor like garbage. He lifted his gun and narrowed his eyes towards the stairs.

× "Be good and maybe I'll keep you for myself after I hunt your mutt down." he said between gritted teeth. You just started praying for the man you loved, still trying to figure out a way to at least hide before this scum used you as a threat more than he did already.

× —

× Kirishima watched them from the shadows; his breath was heavy yet silent, his enhanced vision saw the two low-life mobs he sometimes noticed following Mawler whenever he went; he took in consideration their stance; of course they'd bring weapons—

× his mind drifted to one of his trainers, EraserHead, and on the few moments of aloofness he let himself have around the younger ones put in his charge; "Humans are easily fooled—" he'd grin lazily. "And very easy to scare."

× with determination like he's never had before, he grabbed a rock; if he had to reach you, he'd have to do the only thing he was never good at: being stealthy.

× he rushed to the left of the back entrance, hidden behind a beaten up car as he threw the small rock in the opposite direction and in any other situation he'd find himself amused, EraserHead's words on replay in his mind. One of the guys almost jumped in place at the sound, gun fastly jerked into its general direction with trembling hands.

× with no second to spare, he entered the building, his speed impressive—

× no sound was made, but what helped him greatly was that one of them started talking into the nothingness; "We know you're there, you bastard!"

× the other one was now searching inside the building, yet his head turned towards his companion outside; sadly for the poor idiot, it only took a punch in the jaw to immobilize him and knock him out entirely. He took the guns from the now unconscious body and put them in his belt and pocket, yet had no intention to use any.

× the second one left outside was still talking a whole monologue, making the man sweat drop; was this Mawler's plan? he wasn't known to use his brain much...

× yet he wasn't as easy to take down as Kirishima wanted it to be; he turned around, probably uneased by the lack of response of his partner, suspicious and more on the edge; he could feel it, his nervousness, his fear; another bitter grin appeared on Eijirou's features.

× "Jackal?" his voice hid fear behind it.

× they definitely knew the damage he could do and the hybrid was glad they did, wanting them to be terrified, his predator instincts washing over.

× he jumped on him, kicking the pistol out of his hands in a heartbeat and making him stumble backwards, losing his balance; it happened in a blurr, old feeling of being in the ring, fist to fist, tail low and ready to pounce. He was in his element once again and God, he hated himself when he let go of all the pain and broke his arm, the sweet image of your smiling face as you burried yourself into the same arms he hurt people with always in the back of his mind.

× before he could realize, the other woke up from the knockout; he heard rushed steps towards him and a snapping sound. The blabbering idiot was on the ground now, breathing but beaten to a pulp and everything stood still for a good second.

× he got hit? in the back of his head? With just one glance he saw a broken wooden plank and blinked stupidly; did he seriously think—?

× Kirishima grinned and in an instant he grabbed Jackal's head and smashed it into his knee.

× —

× you could hear his steps; you knew it was him; heavy yet trying to conceal them poorly; your man was walking around the floor above and you sniffled your nose at the thought.

× he was absolutely massive and nothing about him was silent; gentle, yes, but silent? laughable. Even in this horrendous situation you closed your eyes lovingly at the thought. He's here.

× "Those damned fucking useless pieces of shit—" Oh, yeah. Him.

× the barrel was suddently pointed at your head and any thoughts you had abandoned your brain completely

× utter terror overwashed your senses in every way as you stared at it with wide eyes

× "Let's see if he fucking likes this—"

× —

× the only way down for the public was the stairway; not even those useless guards knew the hidden entrance his friends and him used once; they had to come back though, the guilt and knowledge that if they're found to be gone would make Mawler execute everyone else.

× a low window painted black that led to a storage room behind the filthy bathrooms and the place they'd be kept in cages; he ran on the first floor, approaching the stairs before jumping on the dusty metal bar, now completely silent and praying his poor attempt at a bait worked.

× in no time he was outside again and in even less of a second he found himself by said window leading to the underground arena.

× —

× "Maybe if I hurt you a little bit, he'll come to his senses." He grinned, gun's safety lever clicked, now pointed at your stomach.

× you saw your vision blurr and you really, really wanted to say something but didn't know what to; your lips trembled and you bit them in the hopes of showing at least some courage before getting shot but you couldn't help closing your eyes.

× the sound was so loud; an obnoxiously loud bang shook the room or maybe just shook you to the core, then warmth engulfed you wholly.

× it gripped into you so strongly yet no damage came; "I got you, baby." came as a whisper in your ear and just as you snapped your eyes to see his red, sweet, gorgeous red eyes look at you tenderly, he was gone.

× nothing was said; just a rush of screams and silence; your kidnapper tried to shoot again or so you saw but he was jumped on instantly; that's when you noticed Eijirou was growling like a wild animal and was covered with blood.

× he was like a hurricane, like a bulldozer, like an unstoppable force that destroyed with no mercy; covered in red and splatters due to his constant attacks just painted him with more of it;

× you were looking at Red Riot and your stomach dropped; this is what he was made to be and you cried when he did not stop beating the man underneath him.

× "Baby, stop—" you'd whisper, really trying to get up and barely making it to stay in a seating position, kinda desperate; and he indeed stopped at your plea, froze actually.

× the poor devil under him was groaning, gargling whatevers but it didn't matter; he was looking at you, shocked and you could see the fear in his eyes...

× was it bad that it didn't matter to you? as long as he didn't kill them, as long as justice got to them and furthermore kept Kirishima by your side forever, it didn't matter to you; it was instant, that thought.

× but as he stood there frozen, taking in your nerves and sudden relief, your crying face filled with worry; you took him in too... how his back was getting soaked in blood, running through his shirt down, and down, leaking...

× he got shot for you;

× "Please, leave him, help me and—" he turned a little, ashamed yet mute.

× like a scolded child, unsure; he was bleeding but he was scared of you; he had a hole in his back but he was hurting for your reaction.

× you sniffled again, getting on your knees, pain striking in your stomach but ignoring it; "Eijirou, come to me, please."

× and he did, all so gracefully, so fast and without a single wince; as if he knew pain more than he should've.

× your hands were instantly freed

× his silence killed you inside, it really did. This man, this amazing creature that beamed like the brightest star in the sky was now somber, dull...

× your phone was thrown on the floor as they tampered with it and you rushed, with trembling hands and uncertainty at his attitude to call the police; he was still to say anything, just staying on his knees in front of you, head low and teary eyes.

× he just muttered the location when they asked you about it but that's it; the operator asked questions yet you didn't care to answer them, just saying you need an ambulance too before closing the call to crawl towards him, taking his torso into your arms careful not to touch the wound on his back.

× he then cried harder into your neck, almost falling into your embrace, accepting it but his hands didn't move to touch you, laying unmoving on his sides.

× "I'm so—" he hiccuped. "I'm so sorry, [Y/N]." His frame was shaking more and more;

× "I love you, Eijirou." It's all you could say. Really, your brain just screamed for you to tell him that, as if you felt it's what he needed to hear the most.

× guilty; blaming himself; putting himself down;

× he shuddered into you as your hands, tired and sore, reached for his sweat soaked hair to stroke it gently.

× "You came for me. You saved me. Thank yo—"

× "Don't! It's all my fault—" his voice broke for a second, hands turning into fists and the only thing grounding him was your scent invading his nostrils. "You're hurt because of me..."

× you cried with him too, gluing his head more into you, peppering his face with shaky butterfly kisses.

× "It's not your fault, it was never your fault, Eijirou." you shook in place as you reassured him. Word by word, sentence by sentence, you let him know he's just as much of a victim being chased by his past, a past he was forced to have; he came for you, he rushed to save you, he took a bullet for you and yet again, he acted like it was nothing, as if the pain of putting you in danger was greater than any damage he could take.

× his hands encircled you and for the first time since you saw him after waking up to this nightmare, he winced in pain but did not let you go. Instead, he pressed your body into his, fearing you'd dissapear.

× you asked him if you should cover the wound, not really knowing what to do for now; you'd have time to talk, you'd have time to reassure him again and again and again, but now you had to make sure he was fine.

× he shook his head, feeling his nose tickle your neck in the process; "Leave it, I've taken worse." And with that statement you cried harder.

× the police sirens could be heard in the distance, accompanied by the ambulance one...

× —

× so much time passed; so many hours without sleep; police station, explanations, Kirishima almost getting arrested in the spot and being incarcerated, hospital, lawyers, more questioning...

× everything was explained, everything kinda settled for the never-ending day, knowing it wouldn't be the last time you'd have to visit said police station, already sure you'd follow Kirishima there without hesitancy to make sure he's treated correctly, but for now... home.

× the bullet didn't reach any vital organ even if he was hit square in the back and for a normal human it would've meant a hit in one of the lungs, but not for a hybrid—

× still, it didn't hurt less to see him in that state;

× your car was sealed and taken away as evidence, so a taxi home was your only way there.

× hands locked and much, so much to talk about ahead of you but one thing sure

× "I love you." You squeezed his hand, catching his attention, loving how his lips curled in a small smile, not as bright as usual, but still, his smile.

× "I love you more." Was his usual response yet this time it was shy, not looking into your eyes but somewhere behind you, out the window. You frowned and shook his hand to catch the attention fully.

× "No. You don't seem to get it." You led his big, strong, scarred hand to your lips, kissing the back of it softly. "I love you, Kirishima Eijirou. So much."

× the car ride was silent as he took in your words and you couldn't help but enjoy the way his eyes widened, now having his full attention as his cheeks reddened slightly, knowing he's been caught putting himself down.

× he let out a breathless chuckle, so small but with it his shoulders fell in relief. He nodded, watching his hand holding yours and gulped, your words repeating in a loop in his mind.

× Eijirou was so easy to read, so transparent and honest and it warmed heart to ser him accept your words, words you've said countless times before this incident and without a doubt in the future until they engraved permanently in his heart.

× he chuckled again at your expression, catching your gaze and holding it until a smile broke on his face, this time big and warm, just like him. The smile you wanted to see all along.

× he cried again through it, passing his free palm over his eyes for a second; "You're my everything, [Y/N]." he'd pull you into his chest, inhaling your scent. "I love you." he squeezed you close.

#kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #hybrid!kirishima #hybrid!au #noire writes #kirishima headcanons

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fandom-junkie2020 · 3 years

Text

Unbreakable

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary- Y/N, sister of Cedric Diggory, once hated Draco Malfoy with a burning passion. Well, that changed and when tragedy strikes the Diggory family, Draco is there to comfort her.

Unedited

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Hogwarts had always been a dream come true. Every day was filled with magic, friendship, and best of all conflict. It was never a dull year at Hogwarts, which meant that some catastrophic event had to occur. Although nothing damaging had happened so far, there was still one thing that made this year different than most.

The Triwizard Tournament.

Y/N sat at her house table, the Slytherin table. Being in Slytherin was something to be proud of--being in any of the houses was something to be proud of--yet most looked down upon Slytherins because of the stereotype that came with the house. The pure hatred that most had for the Slytherins made it difficult for those who were in the house to make friends beyond their group.

Not one had expected Y/N to be in the Slytherin house. It wasn't because of her unusually bubbly attitude or her determination. It was because of her brother.

Cedric Diggory.

Cedric was a year older than Y/N and belonged to the Hufflepuff house. Everyone, including the Diggory family, had expected Y/N to follow in Cedric's footsteps. However, she unexpectedly was chosen to be in the Slytherin house. Even though her family was disappointed by this outcome, they supported her nonetheless. Making friends was more difficult than earning her family acceptance.

At the start of the year Y/N was subject to bullying. She stood by her brother's side and often chatted amongst his friends instead of trying to make her own. This worked out nicely for a while, but like any older sibling would, Cedric got annoyed. Why did she have to always hang out with his friends? She was in first year for God sake, making her old enough to find her own friends. She didn't need to latch onto his life just so she didn't feel lonely.

Although this was somewhat harsh thinking on Cedric's part, this benefitted Y/N.

The astronomy tower was dark. The moon was shining and there was a light drizzle outside. The air nipped at Y/N skin as she sat against the cool metal floor. She sat there with her knees tugged toward her chest. Her hands clung together, desperate to hold onto something. Tears slowly streaming down her face.

Her brother had turned her away. Her only friend, the one person that is supposed to be there for her, told her to leave. She didn't know where else to go. She didn't want to go back to her dorm. The other girls continually picked on her, stole her robes, and even poured water on her bed so she couldn't sleep in it. She could head back to the common room, however that might be worse then the dorms. Most likely, the Slytherin prince himself, would be sitting in one of the armchairs, his goons close by to defend him. If she went to the common room she would be subjecting herself to an even worse fate than that of the girls dorms.

Malfoy was always good at tormenting every student he deemed necessary. Y/N was someone that Malfoy deemed inferior, worthy of torment. Although their paths had barley crossed, the boy still decided to pick on the poor girl. She was an easy target. He got all the information he needed from the gossip smothering the school halls. Anything he didn't know, or needed to know, could be easily at his fingertips with one order to Crabbe and Goyle.

Going to the common room wasn't an option.

Going to the dorms wasn't an option.

Going to her brother wasn't an option.

Going to the astronomy tower, however, was an option.

She had been sitting there for quite some time. Alone, wondering if her time at Hogwarts would get any better. How could it? Everyday she was tormented. How could the life she was living possibly get any better? Life always disappoints doesn't it? Everyone says life is going to get better. That one day, you won't be sad anymore. How can that be? There are always going to be people who want to destroy you, to rip apart your happiness.

"It sucks here," Y/N said to the stars. The stars, of course, remained silent.

"Yeah for you."

Y/N whipped her head toward the stairs that entered the astronomy tower.

There appeared the Slytherin prince. He stood at the entrance and leaned up against the railing of the stairs. His arms crossed and his eyebrows were tilted downward, forming a frown. Y/N looked and took in Malfoy's appearance. He was in his night clothes--not the ones provided by the school of course. These looked to be of a soft material and the stitching was done tightly and neatly. On his left breast was an embroidered Malfoy family crest. The details were delicate and precise.

"Easy for you to say, Malfoy," Y/N sneered. Normally she wouldn't dare to speak to Prince Draco in such a negative tone, for this would cause her to be in more trouble then she normally was in. But tonight, exceptions were made.

Malfoy scoffed, "Well maybe if you weren't such a baby about everything then you'd actually understand the importance of the Slytherin house and embrace who you were meant to be, a Slytherin. Then--and only then--will you actually have some here at Hogwarts."

As Y/N sat, looking over at Malfoy, she pondered why she didn't stand up for herself. Cedric always stood up for her no problem. Why did she have such a hard time with it? What does she have to lose?

She rose from her seated position, took a few steps towards Malfoy, clenched her fists, and spoke.

"Well, Malfoy, if you weren't such an outright wanker then I wouldn't be alienated by my own house!" Y/N yelled.

Malfoy thought tactically about his text words. He paused, looked Y/N up and down and said, "If you weren't such a disappointment to Slytherin then maybe I wouldn't have to be a twat all the time."

Much time had passed since that awful night and Draco had gotten over his irrational bullying. Now things were much different. As the years progressed so did Y/N and Draco's relationship. Instead of being enemies, the two had grown closer than anyone had ever imagined. No one expected Y/N Diggory, sister of Cedric Diggory, to start dating Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince. Even though the two had become good friends before they started their relationship, no one could understand why a Malfoy would date a Diggory. The two of them were good at ignoring everyone else because at the end of the day all the pair cared about was

However, after the start of the Triwizard Tournament, there was more attention on the couple than there ever had before--Rita Skeeter was a lovely help with that. Cedric was consumed in the “celebrity life.” He was being showered with attention from dozens of girls from multiple different houses. His friends were the epitome of the name “Chad.” Altogether, Cedric time was being consumed with studying for the torment and trying to catch the perfect date for the Yule Ball that was scheduled for the winter time. Since Cedric was dragged into the spotlight, his sister was as well. The usual great hall buzz shifted from that evening's outlandish happenings to Y/N and her relationship with Draco.

“Such things are unnatural. No Slytherin should be seen with the like of a--a Diggory.”

“I can’t believe that he chose her. Did you see what she was wearing last week.”

“Diggory and Malfoy? Ugh that whole relationship is disgusting. At least they’re both pure bloods right?

“He’s gorgeous. Maybe slippin’ him a love potion or two will make him forget about Miss Y/N Diggory.”

To say that their comments were rude would be an understatement. Despite the harsh tone fluttering about the Great Hall, Draco and Y/N were able to discount the murmurings. They would sit quietly chatting with each other while Crabbe and Goyle sat across from them, engulfing their time with the freshly baked pastries. While those around them would be projecting hate onto their relationship, they would be avowing their love for one another.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re so pretty.”

“You’re amazingly smart.”

“You are everything I’ve always wanted.”

“You are worth everything in my life and more.”

While the two were together, everyone around them disappeared. No one else mattered. It was them and only them. They could spend hours defying the expectations of their fellow classmates. While they were together, nothing could touch them. They were unbreakable.

The final task, the most important task out of the three. The area was filled with hundreds of students, staff, and family members of those who were entered in the tournament. There were dozens of flags representing that of whom the individual wanted to win. Trumpet blasted its music through the area as the crowd cheered for the entering contestants.

Out of a doorway, hidden beneath the audience, appeared Cedric, Fleur, Victor, and finally Harry. Cedric, accompanied by his father, looked into the stands in search for his sister. They had been growing apart in recent years, however, he wanted to know that she was there. That she cared. His eyes weaved through the Slytherin crowd. The search didn’t last very long. All he needed to do was find the boy with the platinum blonde hair. His sister, Cedric knew, would be right next to the boy.

Once he locked eyes on his sister, he smiled and waved. For half a second Cedric would have sworn that she wasn’t going to wave back. Then he saw his sister’s eyes light up. She stretched her arm high up into the air and shook her arm back and forth. Her smile stretched from ear to ear. Then she turned to Draco, excitement flooding her expression. They exchanged a few sentences with each other before she turned back to continue waving at her brother.

In that moment, hope filled Cedric’s heart. Maybe--just maybe--he could mend the relationship he broke long ago. Maybe he could talk to her and tell her how much he loved her. Maybe they could forget the countless arguments between them. Then Cedric began to wonder if his sister had meant to react with such excitement. Maybe she wasn’t thinking clearly. She was obviously having her fun with Draco. Surely she didn’t mean to acknowledge him with such energy.

Regardless, I’ll talk with her later, he thought.

Y/N sat next to Draco, her hand intertwined with his. Fleur and Victor had already been illuminated from the tournament. Surely, Cedric and Harry would be done soon?

“I’m worried,” Y/N looked towards Draco.

He looked back at her, his eyes crinkling downwards, “Why?”

“Well,” Y/N paused as she gazed at the center of the arena, “they should be back by now. The task couldn’t take that long.”

Draco rubbed his thumb along the top of Y/N’s hand, “Probably working extra hard to ensure Potter doesn’t win the cup.”

Y/N let out a puff of air, “Ya you’re probably right.”

Just then, out of thin air, Harry and Cedric appear in the center of the arena. The crowd cheers, the trumpets let out load notes of upbeat, champion music, and everyone stands. Including Y/N and Draco. At first she cheers, glad that her brother made it out of the maze with the cup, even though he and Harry were together. Then she looks closer (as close as she can from the distance she’s at). Harry lays on top of Cedric, an arm wrapped around his shoulder. Cedric, positioned on his back was unmoving.

“Draco,” she reached over to her boyfriend who, like the others, was immersed in cheering.

He glanced over at her, continued to clap, and asked, “What?”

“Draco.”

Then someone let out a strangled cry.

Dumbledore ran towards Harry, pulling him away from Cedric.

“No! No!” Harry cried as he continued to latch onto Cedric’s body.

Everything stopped.

The music.

The cheering.

Everything.

“Draco,” Y/N whispered, her eyes grew watery. Cedric hadn’t moved from his supine position.

Y/N like many of the professors pushed past the crowd of people, attempting to reach her brother. A hand grabbed hers but she yanked it out of the grasp that was trying to keep her from moving forwards. She reached the bottom of the stairs.

“He’s back! He’s back! Voldemort’s back! Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back! I couldn’t leave him, not there!” Harry yelled frantically as Dumbledore attempted to console the distressed boy.

Y/N paused, listening to what Harry said. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look, saw Draco, and continued walking forward. Her feet carried her faster the closer she got. Everything moved in slow motion. The sounds around her were barely audible. She could only focus on her brother laying in the grass, lifeless.

She reached Cedric’s body just as Harry was being pulled away. She kneeled down, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Ced--Cedric,” she said forcefully.

This must have been another one of his stupid pranks. He was no Fred or George but he loved to pull a quick joke on his sister, no matter how cruel.

“Cedric, this isn’t a joke, come on,” she insisted. She shook his shoulder.

Nothing.

She shook harder.

Nothing.

“Y/N,” a voice behind her said softly, “Y/N.”

She turned around slightly, her eyes still trained on her brother.

“Y/N,” a hand was placed on her shoulder. She whipped her head around, her watery eyes overflowing. Draco stood above her. His blonde hair glistened against the light from the torches. His eyes were filled with sadness. He knelt down, grabbed the hand that she had placed on her brother's shoulder, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

“Y/N, come on, we should go.”

She looked at her brother then back to her boyfriend, “But, Draco, he--we can’t leave him here, Draco. He--he--I need him--we have to--” Draco looked sadly at his girlfriend as her voice began to crack. The tears that were streaming down her face were getting heavier.

“Come on, love. Let’s go somewhere else, ya?” he suggested, voice slow and carefully punctuated, almost as if he were talking to a child.

He carefully grabbed her upper arms, lifted her from her knelt position, and engulfed her in a hug. Her arms quickly found themselves around his waist, her head tucked downwards in his shoulder. The tears seemed to be forever flowing as they soaked into Draco’s robes.

“Let me through--that’s my son! That’s my boy! My boy!” Y/N’s father’s agonizing screams burst through the crowd as he too pushed through the sea of people. He reached his son, sobbing as he kneeled down. His screams penetrated the ears of everyone in the arena.

Y/N moved her arms from around Draco and placed her hands over her ears, eyes shut tight. Draco squeezed her shoulder with one arm and raised his other hand to cradle the back of Y/N’s head. Her sobs, much like her fathers, were cut off by harsh breaths.

“He’s dead, Draco. He’s dead,” she whispered continually into Draco’s chest.

Draco pulled away momentarily, cupped Y/N’s cheeks, and brought his forehead to hers.

“It’s going to be okay, love. I promise.”

One thing was for sure, she was broken,

but they were unbreakable.

#draco #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Ron Weasley #draco x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #cedric diggory #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x reader

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kmikaelsonimagines · 4 years

Text

Back Off: A Kol Mikaelson Imagine

Request from Anon: Can you write and imagine where the reader is kol's girlfriend, they met in New Orleans before he was daggered and is really close with his siblings more than with hers because they always choose the girl that they have feelings instead of her, so when she comes to Mystic Falls with the Mikaelson's and meet Elena she has a lot of troubles with them because of her, and Kol is always there to help her and back her up against her brothers.

This is it. My 101st imagine. Let’s hope this (potentially) next 100 are as good as the last! Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

It had been over a century since you had last since your brothers, having left Mystic Falls after growing tired of your place at the bottom of their list of priorities. No matter what trouble you were going through, no matter how much you just needed your big brothers, Damon and Stefan Salvatore would always choose someone else, the latest woman that took their fancy.

You’d always liked New Orleans, so when you arrived at the beginning of the twentieth century, it was better than anything you could have imagined. It was made perfect when you met Kol Mikaelson, falling in love with the Original vampire, taking your place as a member of his family, of one that, despite their disputes with your boyfriend, valued you, took care of you, maybe even loved you.

For the first time in a long time, life was perfect. There was of course a moment when it wasn’t, when Kol had been daggered, and you had stayed away from the family for a while, dealing with your loss.

But that was all over now. Here you were, in the twenty-first century, back in the arms of the man you loved. It was just a shame your reunion had to take place somewhere you had vowed never to return.

“I’m sorry it had to be here,” Kol murmured into your hair, his hands running up and down your arms. You lay with your back to his chest, both of you having been removed of your clothes the moment you were left alone. “Have you seen them yet?”

You sighed, turning in his arms to face him. You studied every feature, every inch of skin, every glint in his eyes, every tooth in his smile. You had missed it, missed him. It was supposed to be a perfect moment, just you and him, and you joked with him about the mention of your brothers.

“Do we have to talk about them? Way to ruin the moment.”

“Oh, we were having a moment?” Kol smiled, sarcasm lacing his words.

“Well, I’m confused as to what we’ve been doing so far.”

He kissed you and any thoughts of your family disappeared. In truth, you had seen them already, even spoken to them. It was a quick hello, followed by the two Salvatore brothers trying to engage in conversation with you, no doubt, to allow them to express a dire apology, or criticise you for leaving. Their attempts were cut short when Rebekah came to your rescue, your brothers shocked and disgusted as they were informed of your association with the Mikaelson family.

But the way your brothers reacted didn’t matter now. And it wouldn’t until a few days later.

“Y/N, you’d better behave,” Klaus turned on you as you smoothed down your dress. Tonight was the Mikaelson ball and you knew your brothers would be attending, along with that girl who looked remarkably like Miss Petrova. You had hated her too, the latest in a long line of women who had been chosen over you. You had no doubt that Elena Gilbert- as you were told was her name- would be exactly the same.

“Who? Me?” You feigned innocence, earning a small smile from the hybrid. In reality, you had no plans to disrupt the evening, at least, not yet. You couldn’t say the same for Kol, who now walked in, placing an arm around your waist. You exhaled as he did so, his lips lingering on your cheek before turning to his brother.

“Trust me, Klaus,” the hybrid scoffed, “As long as those morons don’t bother us, we’ll be on our best behaviour.” As Klaus walked away, you looked up at Kol, a familiar devilish spark in his eyes.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that should your brothers dare upset you, I’ll tear them apart.”

You placed your hands on Kol’s cheeks, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“And that is exactly why I love you.”

“I know.”

A few hours later, and you were in no doubt that Kol’s desire to tear your brothers to pieces would soon be appeased. Elena, that young lady whom you had taken an instant dislike to, had already cornered you, finding a moment when Kol left you alone to discuss what she had deemed issues with you.

“Damon and Stefan, they really want to make things up with you.”

“And so they sent you?”

“Well, no, not exactly, but-”

“But what happened between my brothers and myself is none of your business. And if you have any sense, which I highly doubt, you’ll run far away from me before I rip your heart out.”

“Always on the attack, aren’t we, Y/N? But I guess living with the freaking Mikaelsons hasn’t helped with that.”

You snarled at Damon, the eldest of your brothers having appeared to save Elena, his damsel in distress.

“I don’t know, Damon, I’ve always quite liked that side of her,” you fought the urge to smile as you felt Kol at your side, “Now how about you back off before this evening gets more messy than either of us want?”

You took a step back as the two vampires squared off against each other. Normally, you would have been the one to step in, to place your hand on Kol’s chest, to take him away to your bedroom so he could exercise his emotions in other ways. But this you wanted to see. As Stefan walked onto the scene, barely throwing a glance at you, you felt your heart beat faster, willing on Kol to finally make your brothers pay for all the hurt they had caused you.

But instead it was Elena who stepped in, her words warning your two brothers just who they were facing. And then you heard the words that really made your blood boil.

“She’s not worth it.”

You saw red. You grabbed Elena by the throat, pinning her up against the wall.

“Say that again.”

Of course, she couldn’t, your hand slowly cutting off her airways.

“I’m not worth it? Me? Honey, let me tell you something. I have lived my life being put at the bottom of their pile of things to care about, some girl just like you taking pride of place in their minds. But you know what I’ve learnt? Those girls just get replaced over and over again. That’s all you are, Elena, a replacement,” you drowned out the shouting of your brothers as they demanded you let her go. They were held back by Kol, whom you glimpsed at; he was smiling, his eyes shining, an expression that only spurred you on. “You’ll soon find out, Miss Gilbert, that if anyone’s not worth it in their eyes, it’ll be you. Me? I’ve found someone who actually believes I am worth it, who actually loves me. I’ll be just fine.”

You dropped her then, and your brothers scrambled to her aid. It was in that moment that you kissed Kol, hungrily, passionately, not caring who saw. Stefan’s cry of disgust snapped you out of the moment, but you were still very aware of Kol’s hand on the small of your back, memories of your reunion resurfacing.

“Him? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Now, as I said, it would be in your best interests to back off from your sister. Unless you want a repeat of what just happened,” Kol took a step forward, “Unless you want worse.”

From that moment on, your brothers no longer tried to approach you. Of course, there was conflict between them and the rest of your newfound family, but it was miniscule in comparison into what could have occurred had Kol not defended you, had you not defended yourself.

It had been over a century since you had last seen Damon and Stefan Salvatore, but because of Kol Mikaelson, you didn’t care if it was a century more.

Masterlist

#the vampire diaries #TVD #tvd imagines #tvd imagine #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals imagines #to #kol mikaelson imagines #kol mikaelson imagine #Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #nate buzolic #Nathaniel Buzolic #nate buzz

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Look Upon the Light

(Chapter 8: Terrify)

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, general melancholy

Word Count: 7765

“I know who you are.”

Shigaraki lifts your console up, turning it this way and that, ignoring your declaration. “The facing got knocked off,” he states, his four fingered grasp lifting it up for you to see. His eyes catch yours, the crimson ensnaring you. “I don’t think it’s going to fit back on. Lucky you, you don’t really need it to operate the machine.”

His pinky comes down against the plastic, joining the rest of his finger pads. The plating is gone in an instant, dissolving into a fine dust and drifting to the mats beneath Shigaraki’s feet.

Moving to Japan has been an absolutely terrible life choice.

Notes: Not beta edited, so any and all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Chapter 1: Encounter || Chapter 2: Observe || Chapter 3: Hello || Chapter 4: Intoxicate || Chapter 5: Taste || Chapter 6: Teeth || Chapter 7: Polaroid ||

Terrify ter·ri·fy /ˈterəˌfī/ verb cause to feel extreme fear.

In hindsight, you should have known. It was too quiet.

The moments that stretched between Tomura’s visits narrowed and shrank. You’d come to expect him whenever you walked into your living room, your bedroom, your kitchen. He stuck to your ribs, pulled at you, wordlessly asking you to stay close. You’d wake to his warmth, his touch, the reds and whites blurring together.

Despite these moments of tranquility, he was tense. Thrumming with an energy that made you shake.

It was dangerous.

But, you’d always known that, even if you pretended that the tiger at your door was as gentle as a kitten. Something was closing in. It felt like the calm before a storm, the air pulling back and pushing forward, misting over the pliant ground.

Neither of you acknowledged it.

Like the best ghost, it only made its presence known in the chill of pre-dawn. Slipping over your sleeping bodies and seeping into your skin, slowly tarnishing, rusting out.

You wake one morning to see Tomura leaning over you. He isn’t touching and is barely breathing, his exhales coming out in little puffs of air. His eyes rake over you like coals, smoldering as they set you aflame.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep. He doesn’t answer, just continues his silent introspection. There it is again, that creeping sensation that’s been nagging at you. You don’t question him further. Instead, you roll toward him, pressing your cold hands into his warmth.

Something unspoken has been drifting above the two of you for weeks. You knew that you could give it a voice. But, you were unsure if he could. You wanted to tell him about it, to make it solid by speaking it into existence, but you didn’t know how he would react to your declaration. And provoking an unknown reaction out of Tomura was never a wise move.

Did you even need it to be said when you’d already accepted it as fact? You loved him.

And, he loved you. You knew that, you’d never doubted that. His walls had come crumbling down with yours and Tomura was nothing if not passionate and possessive. He couldn’t help himself. He might disguise it as something else, tell himself that it was another thing he was entitled to, but you knew the truth. You clutched at it, keeping it safe, holding it to you so he could never tear it away. Even if he left, even if you never saw him again, you would keep that small piece of him.

You could feel that love when he came to you like this. He would soften, his voice and touches lingering, tender. He wouldn’t let you go. Insisting that you hold onto him, that you come to him. He was at his most desperate in these moments.

Running your hands along his bare legs you look back up at his face. He is leaning closer, practically bent in half as his hair trails against you.

“Come here,” you whisper, arms lifting to pull against his neck. He doesn’t resist and you tug him back to you, trying to leech some of his warmth. He lays his head against your breasts, his low breathing making you shiver. Your hands tangle in his white hair, cascading the tendrils against your palms.

His eyes finally drift closed as the sun peeks playfully against your curtains. You should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to leave him alone in the bed. Burrowing against his slackened form, you fall blissfully into sleep, content to let your whirling anxieties still.

******

It was the little things that tripped the two of you up.

He’d been careful, and you’d been protective of his presence, keeping your movements to a minimum. But, it had always been a matter of time. He wasn’t infallible and you, well, you couldn’t stop time.

At first, the extra patrols made you feel at ease, especially when you were returning to your apartment late. There was a new hero in the area and she seemed determined to make a name for herself. Although you had never run into her, the shops and local papers were chock full of her name. She had brought along two sidekicks, kids really, but between the three of them, the crime rates had steadily decreased.

Then, you remembered what Tomura had told you once, “Guess this prefecture isn’t important enough for any hero to deem it worth their while…I doubt anyone will notice a villain respawning in the vicinity.” Now, the patrols just made you jumpy and you couldn’t help but worry for him each time he stepped out your door.

Tomura became even more inscrutable as the days wore on. He was practically seething, a deep rage bubbling over him and tipping, spreading. It tainted his voice, his movements. However, he was careful to not take his brittle aggression out on you.

No, he was never rough with you, at least, unless you wanted him to be. But, that was a different sort of dynamism he would retreat into. And it was one that you welcomed. Often, it could pull him from the brink of his restlessness.

Even with the distractions, Tomura was still on edge. He’d always worn his emotions in his eyes and body language. You could map every inch of him now and that power never brought reassurance. You didn’t question his anger.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, you just knew that it was a part of him. It sat against his heart, beating in tandem with the muscle. But, it wasn’t his budding aggression that set things in motion.

Instead, something more insidious crept in.

******

A knock at your door startles you, your pen dragging against the drafting paper, an unseemly line etched across the design. Shit. You look at your phone. Although Tomura didn’t text every time he came by, he usually kept his travels to and from your apartment to odd hours, like pre-dawn, or the dead of night. According to your device, it’s just after noon. No, something isn’t right…

The knocking comes again, louder, insistent.

You stand, gulping down your shaking nerves. It could be nothing, you tell yourself as you walk to the door, your feet padding against the wood, just calm down, (Y/N).

Two men stand outside your doorway. They are wearing professional, dark suits and they look like bad fucking news.

“Miss (L/N)?” the shorter one asks, removing his hat and bowing to you.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, your heart beating tightly against your chest.

“I’m Detective Ito and this is Detective Yamashita,” he gestures briefly to the taller man, who gives you a cursory bow. “Sorry to bother you during the work day, but we have a few questions for you. Do you mind if we come in?” his voice is liquid and you distrust it immediately.

“Right now? I’m in the middle of a project, is there any way I can get a card and possibly meet with you later?” You try to make yourself stand up straight, projecting a calming lull over your tone. Come on, (Y/N), you’re not bothered by this, if anything you’ve been preparing for this. Handle them and don’t let anything slip, you have nothing to hide. Except for the villain who haunts your bed. No, don’t think that. You’ve got this...

“I’m sorry Miss (L/N),” the taller gentlemen, Detective Yamashita, presses, stepping toward you. “It can’t. This concerns some delicate information and we need to make sure we can clear you. While you’re not being accused of anything,” he amends, catching sight of your narrowed eyes, “we do need to make sure we’re covering our bases.”

“And my rights as an American citizen?” you press, holding your ground. You have a feeling it will be a null point, but it’s worth a shot.

“I’m afraid your visa doesn’t grant you any special privileges. Now, I’ll ask you again, may we come in? Or, do we need to come back with something a little more…stringent?” He lets the final word hang, a warning. Detective Yamashita is clearly playing the role of bad cop in this little interrogation, that’s not an interrogation. Yeah, right.

You pause, biting your lip, thinking. If you push back, then you might find yourself in more hot water, besides, as far as you can tell, you aren’t under arrest. That means they don’t have anything concrete, for the time being.

You bow, “I apologize gentlemen, I don’t mean to be rude, I just don’t understand what two detectives could possibly want to question me about. Please, come in.”

They seem placated by this response and follow you into your living room. You offer them a seat on your couch and bring your work stool around to sit in front of them, hands folded in your lap. Here’s hoping the demure act will work in your favor…

“It’s no problem Miss (Y/N), I know you haven’t been in Japan long. I’m sure it’s unsettling to see us. Now, before we proceed, would you please show us your U.S. passport, work visa and residence card?”

You nod, keeping your face neutral as you gather your paperwork, holding them out to Detective Ito, who takes a small flashlight to them, scanning for any forgeries. Satisfied, he hands them back, a small smile on his lips. Still doing that good cop routine, you think irritatedly, tossing the papers on your media stand.

“We’ve heard that you’ve found a boyfriend while you’ve been here,” detective Yamashita pries, crossing his legs and leaning toward you. “Where is he?”

“Not sure I’d call him that, he’s more of an acquaintance. He lives in another city,” you lie. Keep things simple and to the point, don’t supply anything you don’t mean to.

“Which one?”

“Esuha City,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the detectives.

“Your landlady said he has very distinctive features,” Detective Yamashita pauses, writing something down. Then, his eyes lift, waiting. He’s not going to let you slip past this query.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your head tilting questioningly.

“She said he had white hair.”

You tap at your chin, pretending to think. “Oh, I believe he did. He dyes it a lot.”

“What color is it now?”

“Not sure, I haven’t seen him in a while.” Well, you think snidely, that one is partially true, it had been about a few days since you’d last seen Tomura.

“A co-worker of yours, Mr. Suzuki, also mentioned something interesting about your, er, friend,” Detective Ito pipes up, and you arch an eyebrow at him, not answering, holding back.

“He said that he acted strangely when he came by. Apparently, he was very aggressive. Mr. Suzuki said he felt threatened.”

It’s really shitty luck that interaction has come back to bite you. “Oh,” you feign remembrance, “well, my co-worker, Mr. Suzuki, had decided to walk into my apartment unannounced and without knocking. Naturally, I thought he might have been a burglar. I’m sure my landlady has told you that my unit has been burglarized before?”

“She did,” Detective Yamashita replies, his eyes finally drifting away from yours. “While this might be a long shot, we would like for you to look at some pictures.” He snaps open his briefcase and pulls a collection of images out, pressing them into your hands.

You can feel them both eyeing you carefully as you shift through the images. Some of them are Tomura, some are others, and most are blurry. You lift one curiously. It’s the image of a man standing on a train platform in a dark trench coat. Squinting, you try to see the station name. You can just make out the lettering, Musutafu Station. It’s the one that is close to UA. Taking another look over the others you see the same station tiles, your heart feels like it’s floating away.

Maybe they really are just checking leads, they do seem a bit bumbling, but that could also be an act. Something that makes you drop your guard, something that could put both you and Tomura in danger.

“No, I’m sorry. Although,” you tug out one of the pictures that is not Tomura, “this one looks a little familiar. I just can’t think where I’ve seen them before…”

“That’s the League of Villain’s leader,” Detective Ito provides, and Detective Yamashita glares at him, his eyes darkening.

“Oh! God, is that who you’re looking for?” you ask, eyes wide.

“We’ve been canvassing the area, asking questions of some of the locals. A girl in downtown Tokyo thought she saw him the other day, like I said, just covering our bases.” Detective Yamashita admits, taking the pictures from you.

“But, that doesn’t explain how I ended up in your investigation. Is it because my friend had white hair? I mean, not to be rude, but that feels, vague…”

“Since Shigaraki was seen near the train, we traced other CCTV cameras in the station. We noticed that someone similar to his description was seen exiting at this station, as well as several stops in Tokyo a few months ago. Your, uh, friend, as of now, fits a similar description. We’re just checking the area for anyone who has been in contact with persons similar to Shigaraki.”

“So, no recent sightings?” You opt to ignore that last bit of information, it would make more sense for you to be worried about the bigger picture.

“It’s terrifying to think that a villain might be lurking around. After the burglary, I really considered moving to another complex. I was hoping that that new hero would turn things around.” You duck your head, trying your best to look flustered and scared. They aren’t hard emotions to reach for, given the circumstances.

“He hasn’t been seen in a while, ma’m, please, don’t worry,” Detective Ito says encouragingly, earning him another glare from Detective Yamashita.

“I just, I don’t understand something, why talk with my co-worker?” you ask, your voice low.

They're hiding something. Suzuki could have reported his minor encounter with Tomura to the police, or maybe these men approached him. It was frustrating and frightening. It’s something so small, such a tiny slip in time. You’d honestly forgotten about Suzuki’s visit, so much had happened since then. But now, thanks to Suzuki’s report, there are detectives sitting in your living room. There’s no way you can plausibly deny Tomura’s presence in your apartment. Both Suzuki and the apartment manager had seen him.

“We have reason to believe that he might have-” Detective Ito is cut off by Detective Yamashita’s throat clearing, a rasping sound that reverberates in your small apartment. You gulp, pulling yourself from your musing, your hands fidgeting in your lap.

“Ito, please. I’m sorry ma’am, we aren’t able to give that information out at this time. At present, we have no further questions for you Miss (L/N), but, before we go, do you mind if we take a quick look around?”

“Um, of course,” you smile weakly. What else could you do? The more you resisted, the more suspicious you looked. Your stomach drops as they stand and you feel like you are going to be sick.

These detectives knew about Tomura, there’s no way they didn’t. They might be checking now, but they’ll be back. And the next time they might not…

No, you can’t think about that right now. Just go along with what they want and get them out of here. You can figure out a plan of action when they’re gone.

The detectives are already pacing around the rest of the living room when you finally stand from your seat. Thankfully, this part of their investigation should be easy.

The most Tomura ever kept at your place was the two pairs of sweatpants that you’d bought him and those you can easily explain away. You’d also kept your food purchases to a minimum. Lately, he hadn’t been eating much of anything, so you’d saved on the grocery bill. Thank God for that.

Overall, your apartment looks like it just housed you.

The two detectives putter around for a few minutes, opening drawers, examining shelves and closets. They even peek in your bedroom, but Detective Ito had practically closed the door on Detective Yamashita’s nose when he poked into the dark room. The smaller detective shook his head, aghast at the very thought of entering something so feminine and private. And odd reluctance, for a man who called himself a detective.

Concluding their search, they head back to your front door and you trudge after them, feeling numb.

“Well, Miss (L/N), thank you for your time,” Detective Yamashita bows, followed closely by his compatriot. “If you hear or see anything out of the ordinary, please, don’t hesitate to give us a call. We’d also like to hear from your…friend if he drops by again.”

“Of course,” you demure, bowing back, praying that this is about to end.

“Have a pleasant day, we’ll be in touch.” Detective Ito grins and the two men make their way to the next apartment floor, their feet heavy against the carpet. Once your door is shut you fall down into the floor of your genkan, your heart pounding and hands shaking. Oh God, you have to…Wait, should you text him? You’re not using his name on your phone, but what if they’re already tracing it? Can they do that?

You pull yourself to your feet, your legs wobbly, and drag yourself back to your drafting desk, snatching up your phone. Your fingers tremble as you type in your message. You don’t know if you should put it in some kinda vague, coded wording, or if you should just toss the damn phone out the window and resort to smoke signals. Damn it.

[You: 1:13 pm]

Hey, some men came over. They were asking questions.

Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like a vague text, you think, looking over the message and hitting send. No, it looks like it’s screaming that you’re harboring Tomura Shigaraki. You move to your floor, back braced against the wall, waiting. It might be hours before he texts back. But, you didn’t want him coming over and then finding himself immediately captured by the police.

You bury your face in your hands, a low groan wracking out of your lips. Worst case, he won’t answer at all and all you’d have left of him are memories, not even realizing that they were the last interactions that the two of you would share.

The sudden vibration of your phone snaps you out of your head, and your hands shake so badly they send the device skittering across your mats. You tumble after it, lifting the screen and breathing a sigh of relief. He answered.

[Tenko: 1:23 pm]

5-2 Kusunokicho 7-chome

It’s an address. You highlight the text, hit copy, and paste it into the mapping app on your phone. It looks like it’s a tea shop. You stand, legs still trembling, and grab your purse and jacket, heading for your door. You poke your head out, into the hallway, and gather your strength. If you are going to do this, you need to look natural. Besides, if they are following you, hopefully Tomura would know what to do.

You gulp as you lock your door behind you, a morbid thought jumping into your mind. Well, here’s hoping that knowing what to do didn’t mean killing anyone.

******

The tea shop is busy. It’s raining, so that might have contributed to the bustle inside the shop. You pull the hood of your jacket higher, trying to shield your face from the freezing droplets. Tomura hadn’t texted again and you didn’t feel like it would be a good idea to ping your location on your phone.

In fact, you think belatedly, you might as well switch it off. As you power the device down, you hear a low whistle from the alleyway across the narrow street.

You turn your head slowly, the rain pattering against your face. There is a figure loitering toward the back. It isn’t distinguishable as anything other than dark. Well, fingers crossed you aren’t about to be murdered.

Splashing across the street you duck down the alleyway, thankful you’d thrown on some heavy boots for this excursion. The figure is stationary and you pause a few feet back, waiting. He lowers his hood, red eyes still focused on the street behind you. You almost run to him. You have to tense your legs to resist the temptation, your nails digging into your palms.

“Were you followed?” he rasps, watchful, his eyes flashing at you, the street, and finally, back to you. You shake your head.

You’d taken a route similar to the one you’d transversed when you came to the clinic to drop off the diagram for that prosthetic. Each time you’d switched trains or busses you had discretely studied the faces around you, looking for any repeats, anyone who might be tracking you. You’d even drifted into a few other shops before reaching this street, often ducking out a back door and taking the alleys to the next street over.

You’d been careful, you just hoped it was enough.

“This way, stay alert,” Tomura murmurs, his hands still firmly in his pockets. He leads you down another street and into a smaller back alley. He’s doing his own weaving now, taking you over some of the pathways twice, his eyes always peering over his shoulder, observant and sharp. Finally, he pauses in front of a dilapidated door and shoves his way inside.

“Come on,” he calls back to you, holding the door open, allowing some space for you to slink past him. He follows, yanking the metal closed, sealing you both inside.

You shrink back against the darkness, your eyes struggling to adjust. You can hear Tomura moving toward you, his breathing a low scratch against the silence. He stops at your side, the warmth of his body close.

Neither of you move for a time. You’re both listening. The only sounds you can make out is the rain and your own heartbeat. You close your eyes, your head thumping against the door. “God,” you whisper, your voice thick with disuse.

The sound makes Tomura shift closer, his arms pulling you to him, away from the cold metal. He presses a quick kiss against your temple and tugs you further into the room.

It looks abjectly barren.

There’s an old mattress in one corner and a smattering of trash, mostly cans and takeout containers, strewn over the greasy floorboards. It looks like it’s operating as his bedroom and the thought makes your heart squeeze. It’s fucking disgusting. No wonder he used you as a place to crash in the beginning. No human should live like this.

He flops down to sit on the mattress and pulls you after him. The two of you perch on the uneven surface and you let out a long sigh, overwhelmed. Tomura senses this and doesn’t press you. He lets you catch your breath, welcoming your leaning touch. Once you’ve shaken off your jitters, you begin.

“They were detectives. They said they saw you at a Tokyo station, so they checked CCTV and traced you to the stop by my apartment.” Tomura is silent and you gather your breath to continue.

“They talked with the landlady and they talked with that idiot coworker of mine, you know, the one who tried to come in the apartment that one night. It was vague shit, I tried my best to ask more than I talked.

One detective kept trying to get the other to stop telling me details. He finally shut down the whole thing, saying they’d be in touch and for me to give them a call if I saw anything. I…I just hope this doesn’t fuck things up for you, for-for us…I don’t...goddamn it…” You bury your face in your arms, a sob stuttering from you.

Tomura is quiet, but he pulls you into his lap, arms wrapping around your quaking shoulders.

******

He isn’t sure what he wants.

It’s not a sensation he experiences often and he’s finding it hard to grapple with. If he’s thinking selfishly, he would keep you with him. He’d drag you to hell and back if he could. He doesn’t want to give you up and he isn’t even sure if he can. A deep welling of possessiveness had overtaken him. You were his, just as he was yours.

It was strange to admit that.

He wanted to break everything to pieces, to decay it into nothingness, but, over the last few months, he’d come to adjust those goals. Not just with you, no, the same leniency applied to this league of his. They should have what they wanted, too.

So, he let you cry against him.

He wants to know what giving is like. To tell you that he could give you something of his. After all, he’d stripped you down to nothingness, taking and taking until you had finally lain bare and open in front of him. You’d started the process naturally, giving coming as easily to you as breathing.

He knew he didn’t want you around the league.

You were too different, too removed from that sense of desperation and fanatical idealism. And you didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t like seeing you in a place like this, dilapidated and crushed, sobbing against his chest, your warm tears soaking into his skin.

No, you deserved to be comfortable. You weren’t a fighter. You would try if he asked, he knew you would. But it wasn’t you. Besides, what did you want?

He would have to let you go. He’d known it from the first moment he’d felt your lips running across his. Still, it had come too soon. Perhaps that could be his gift to you? Letting you settle back into normality.

******

“What should I do?” You ask him, lifting your head from his chest, eyes puffy and tired. His gaze is clouded, the red murky, unfocused.

“Whatever you want,” he says, his voice hollow.

“Tomura,” you admonish, “I...I just don’t want you falling into some trap. Not because of this stupid…I don’t even know what to call it. I thought we were careful...I-I don’t know. I’m just so fucking mad.”

He smiles at your outburst, his scar lilting up. “What do you want to do?” He presses his forehead against yours, exhaling heavily, waiting for your answer.

“Move,” you reply, tipping your fingers up to trace along his jaw.

“Then move, it should be easy for you to get back to the U.S.”

You sigh, pulling your head back. “No, I don’t want to do that. I just mean, move somewhere that’s safe for-”

“The league is regrouping soon. We’ve caught wind of some…information. It’s going to take us farther out of the city. I was going to tell you tonight. I don’t know how long it will be. Could be months…” He speaks slowly, his voice lulling, soothing you, even as you take in what he’s actually saying. I’m leaving, get out while you can.

There is a long silence following his announcement, and you lean against him, burying your face against the rough fabric of his trench coat. So, just go home? Go back to the states? There has to be something that you’re not thinking of…

Tomura tilts your face up, craving contact. He runs his rough lips over yours, carefully letting his hands tap over your neck.

His kiss is light. The fleeting caress makes you press against him, your fingers curling into the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. You moan when he tilts his head, sliding wetly across your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and you open, tangling with him. Tomura grunts at your eagerness and his nose bumps yours, his exhaled breath shaky, wanting.

You sigh. How were you supposed to just say ok? How could you be ok without having him like this? What if you wanted to try and remain at his side...could you ask that of him? What if…wait…wait…that’s it!

You pull back from him, gasping and he gives you a disgruntled look, a frown creasing his features. “Oh...that’s it! I know what to do!”

“Keep your voice down,” he reprimands, as you lean back to reach for your purse. You dig in the scattered contents and emerge with a small business card, a beaming smile across your face.

“Nico! He said to call him if I wanted to take him up on that job offer. He said I could draft for him. He’s at that clinic, and he said they work in a grey area, but they have some serious connections. It’s perfect. It lets me slip away, I’ve just got to be careful how I do it.”

Tomura snorts at your enthusiasm. “So, you just get a new job and all your troubles go away?”

“No, I tell my job I’m transferring back to the states and I pack up my apartment. It won’t be the cheapest thing I’ve ever done, but if I can pull it off, then it’s the perfect solution. I can find some place else to live, and slip into a new life, one where you can still come and go.”

He stares, his eyes wide in that childlike manner, the pupils blown. You smile and fling your arms around him, kissing along his neck. He grunts and presses you back, pinning your arms to your sides.

“Stop squirming,” he growls and you still obediently, not wanting to agitate him.

“Come on, don’t be like that, Tomura. It could work. At least let me try.” You plead, watching his face, trying to see if you could get a read on him.

“You actually are insane,” he sighs, rolling his eyes and turning his head to look away from your stare.

“No, I love you.”

It just tumbles out, but it’s too late to unring the bell. Besides, you stand by it.

He freezes underneath you, his head whipping back to yours. His eyes are sharp and his lips are lifted in a deep scowl. It’s an intense look he’s giving you, almost raw, dangerous. It makes your stomach flip, uncertainty pooling in your gut. You find yourself looking away and biting your lip, “I mean it, I-”

He doesn’t give you a chance to say anything else.

He’s pulling you against him with bruising force, his hands trembling as they press into your skin. He can’t even seem to focus enough to land his lips on yours. He tries again, then stops himself, his face lifting away, but he won’t let you go.

His arms are wrapped around you, his grip tightening and relaxing. He tries to look at you, but ends up ducking his head once your eyes catch his, burying his face in your neck, panting against your skin. He can’t stay still. No, he’s groaning, so brokenly against you that you’re worried he’s going to shake himself to bits.

You lift your arms, belatedly, to wrap around his neck. You try to hold him to you, desperate to seep a little reassurance, fuck, a little sanity into his trembling body. Tomura shakes his head at the confinement and shoves you down, against the mattress.

You squeak as your back hits the musty sheets, but he’s pinning you under him before you can protest.

“What did you say to me?” he finally snarls, his lips curled over his teeth. “No. I know you didn’t just fucking tell me that. How could you even- How? I’m a monst- I-I...” He can’t string his words together. His head dips to your neck, his lips rough against your skin. He can’t catch his breath and he won’t keep still.

You’re gasping under him, trying to hold him. But, it’s impossible to control him. You just shut your eyes against the emotions that he’s pulling from you and let him seethe above you.

“Look at me,” he growls, his voice hoarse and ragged. You try to wince your eyes open, but you’re too overwhelmed, you just can’t, you can’t look.

Why, you think distantly, why can’t you look?

You tell him you love him and now you can’t look at him? Are you afraid of what you’ll see? Afraid of the rejection that you know is coming? It doesn’t change anything, you tell yourself, even if he tells you to get out, it doesn’t change what’s happened between the two of you. No. If this is what you want, then tell him that. He has to...he has to hear it.

“Fucking look at me, (Y/N).”

“T-Tomura,” you try, a tear of frustration, of fear, slipping down your face. “Tomura, I mean it. I lov-”

“Stop it,” he moans, his breath hot against your cheek, his lips following the path of your tear, pressing the salty wetness away. He’s straddling your hips and his hands are curled, pressing into the bed.

“Don’t you fucking dare. You don’t mean it. You can’t-”

“Stop it, Tomura. Just, stop. You think I don’t mean it? How can you say that? After everything we, no, God, how can you fucking say that I don’t love you? When I’m right here, telling you that I do? You don’t get to dictate how I feel. What gives you the right to say that I don’t?” you ask, your voice an angry whisper. You can feel him shaking, his body wracked with his shivers and the realization gives you the courage to open your eyes. Your anger melts away at the sight that greets you.

He’s hunched over, his hair draped across his face and his eyes are clenched shut. He looks like he’s ready to fall apart. One of his hands lifts to scratch at his neck, dragging red lines down the scarred skin.

As if they have a mind all their own, your own hands lift, tugging free of his weight to cup around his face. He tries to yank his way out of your grasp but you just tighten your hold. He’s not getting away that easily.

“Tomura,” you call, keeping his face captive in your hands, forcing him back to you. “Tomura, I love you.”

He sags.

His whole body seems to shrink and his eyes finally meet your steely gaze. The red is bright, wild, gleaming in the darkness. You gulp and furrow your brow, a trembling exhale falling from your lips. You have to say it now. There’s no going back. The world is shattering, splintering to pieces above you, but he has to know. Before you lose him, he’s gotta at least know that one thing in this world that he hates so much, cares about him. Fuck, loves him.

“Sure,” you begin, still gripping your fingertips into the side of his head, slowly slipping up to tug at his hair. “I’m insane. I’ve fallen in love with someone who wants absolutely nothing to do with what I can offer.

It’s not going to work Tomura, I know it’s not. But, goddamn it, at least let me try. I know I don’t get to keep you, I don’t even know what you’re fucking planning to do. You could want to burn down the world for all I care. I just...I just want to hold on a little longer.”

He’s slack jawed and his eyes are wide and unfocused. He’s still panting but he’s not fighting against your hold anymore. Finally, he closes his eyes and lowers his head, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

“Say it again,” he requests, his voice muted, thick with longing.

“What? The whole thing?”

He lets out a wheezing laugh and you slowly start to breathe again.

“You know what I want,” he murmurs. You lift his head from you, tilting until you catch his eyes.

“I love you, Tomura.” A low shudder echoes up his spine and his eyes drift closed again.

“Fuck,” he rumbles, tugging his head from your hands. He doesn’t go far. Instead, he flops to his side and drags you over, draping you across him, his arms latching around you, keeping you in place.

You sigh, relieved, dipping your head against him, feeling for his heartbeat. You’re both quiet and the room stills around you. Your fingers are tracing lazy circles over his crossed arms, careful to avoid his clenched fists. He presses his nose against your hair, inhaling deeply.

“Stay,” he says above you, his breath stirring across the top of your head.

You smile against his chest and duck into his warmth. His grip on you tightens, lean muscles coiling, holding you to him. You can feel his lips as they run along the top of your head, tapping soft kisses into your hair.

Ok, so it’s not the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard, but you wouldn’t have wanted him any other way.

******

Your new apartment is nothing to sneeze at. Nico hadn’t been joking about that pay raise. He also was so much more than you were expecting. Not in a bad way, just in a, hey, I know some shit just went down, are you ok, kinda way. He didn’t pry, but he’d gone out of his way all the same.

The rest of the team at the clinic has also been absolutely stellar at helping you to get set up. Need something moved? On it! It’s like a big family and you can’t wipe the smile off your face most days.

As for your old job, they had been disappointed, but they understood why you wanted to get back to America. However, the American side of that job hadn't been so thrilled at your resignation, but you had received a glowing review from your old boss stateside. You liked to pull it up on your new laptop, reading over the words of encouragement and shaking your head at just how seriously you’d taken her advice.

Your Japanese work buddies were heartbroken, Hanabi most of all. But, you promised to keep in touch. You hadn’t quite figured out how you were going to do that, but that was a problem for another day.

All in all, things were going to plan. You had asked Nico for a little bit of extra help with the paperwork, explaining some of the details to him, and he had been quick to get you set up with a new passport, visa and residency card. It was like the old you was just a blip. You’d just need to keep your head down for a while, check the news, and see where all the extra precautions took you. It wouldn’t be easy, but what part of life was?

Tomura had stopped by after you finished setting up your new tv and console. Appropriately, he’d said he wanted to try it out and had then proceeded to ignore you while you set up the rest of the room. You didn’t mind.

The two of you were trying to make the most of the next couple of days. That lead he’d mentioned was somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo and he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone. He’d reminded you of that fact, over and over, until you’d finally told him to shut up and let you enjoy the time that you did have with him.

“Hey,” you call, unboxing the last of your new dishes, “got you something.” He tilts his head toward you, eyes still glued to his game. Rolling your eyes at his inattention, you wander over, leaning over your new couch to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Pause it,” you demand, dropping a kiss against his temple. He grumbles, but you persist, nibbling on the shell of his ear when he tries to prolong his session.

“What?” He lifts his head up to look at you, his hair falling back against your arms.

“I want to give you something,” you reply, pressing your lips to his forehead before unwinding your arms and stepping around the couch. He eyes you suspiciously as you perch on your coffee table. You lift a key up, wagging it beside your face.

“It’s a key,” you taunt. He smirks and snatches it from you, pocketing it and tugging you forward.

His kiss is soft, so achingly soft that you melt into his arms immediately, flopping against his lean chest.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he grumbles, shifting you to a more comfortable position across his lap. Your legs straddle his hips and he holds you against him, his fingers warm against your hips.

“Can’t say I never got you anything,” you tease, leaning back and grinning down at him.

“Same,” he huffs, reaching into his pocket again and tossing a small phone at you. You fumble to catch it. He snorts at your scrambling and you pout.

“It’s not like you’re throwing it at a normal angle or anything.”

It’s small in your hands, almost obsolete in this modern age. You flip it open and already see a contact programmed in: Tenko Shimura.

“So you don’t bring any more cops around. It also can’t be traced.” His voice is hushed, almost embarrassed. It makes your heart flutter.

“Awe, a burner phone. I’ll cherish it always,” you jab and tilt his chin up, so you can keep kissing him.

******

A low vibrating wakes you. Blearily, you check your phone, only to be greeted with a normal screen, no missed messages or emails. Huh? The vibrating continues and you suddenly realize what it is. Flinging your feet out of bed, you rush to your charger, unhooking the old phone Tomura gave you.

[Tenko: 2:23 am]

Out of the city. Found a new friend.

There’s a picture underneath the words and you click the buttons until it lets you highlight and bring up the image.

It looks like he’s in a forest and you’re shocked he has a signal. But…what the hell is that?

There’s something nestled between all the greenery and it looks ominously like a man. If it’s real, it’s practically a giant, no, actually hulking would be a better word…

It’s practically a living, hulking mountain. Unsure if your sleepy brain is playing tricks on you, you exit the image, deciding that 2 am is not the time to unpack this particular phenomenon.

[You: 2:35 am]

Looks, uh, interesting? Be safe & Love you.

- Fin

Author’s Note:

Ugh, this was such a bittersweet chapter for me. I wrote this fic in its entirety back in the last few weeks of August. I had time before my classes started again and I leapt at the opportunity. In many ways, I identified more and more with the reader insert as I tried to pour out my ideas. I wanted to hold onto this tiny story that I’d outlined, to see if I could make something like this work after such a long break from writing on this scale.

So, out came Look Upon the Light.

It was like a fever dream. I couldn’t stop now that I’d started. After I reached the 8th, and final, chapter, I spent the next two months pouring over what I’d written, editing endlessly. I wanted to make things feel just right.

I went from this bombastic climax to something more subdued. Why not let it be an anticlimactic ending? Life often works that way and sometimes things just, well, end.

Tomura, in particular, has changed so much over the course of this journey.

There were days when I felt like he sounded terrible, nothing like the complex character that I loved so much. But, with my sister's wonderful edits and suggestions, main ideas & patience and countless read-reads of the manga, I got a handle on him and I am so proud of how he’s come out.

Canonically, I feel like this gap in the main story is the only time something like this romance could happen to him. Tomura is in a fragile place. For the first time in his life there’s no one looking over his shoulder and he’s become a character who is worlds away from where he started.

His goals are finally solidifying and he acknowledges that the members of his league deserve to have what they want too. Inside, no matter what has been stripped from him, he’s always been Tenko Shimura: that little boy who wanted to play with the outliers, to make sure that he was letting them feel included too. I indulgently like to think that if someone like the reader existed, their relationship might help him to come to terms with this part of himself.

Finally, this wouldn’t have been possible without you, dear readers. I have cherished each and every kudo, comment, subscription, like, and reblog. I was so scared to put this out. There are so, so many talented writers for this fandom and I was nervous. It had been so long since I’d written anything on this scale, would it sound ok? You all have been so supportive and welcoming and I love you so much. The response I received from posting this let me feel confident enough to explore some of my other favorite characters.

So, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I mean it when I say that you all are amazing and I wish each of you so much joy.

While this won’t be the last time I write for Tomura, there are other facets of his personality that I want to explore, I will wait a bit to do any updates to this story. I want things to catch up and settle within the manga itself before I toss the reader back into Tomura’s life. I do hope that they can come together again, as I have become their biggest fan.

In the meantime, The Gap in the Door will explore some of their other interactions. Some take place around the time of the chapter Polaroid, but some will look into other parts of the story. If you have a prompt, or want to see another glimpse into anything that happened, let me know. These two are so much fun to write and I enjoy head cannoning how they could fit together.

In short, thank you again for all you’ve done for me and take care of yourselves.

Tags: @inumorph, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @possum-person, @akutaguagua

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